6.  2.5/6  2J 


Stom  f  5e  £i6rar)5  of 

(ptofeBBor  nj?tffiam  J^^nrg  (Bteen 

Q^equeaf^eb  6i?  9im  to 
f  ^e  £i6tari5  of 

Qpttncefon  C^eofogicdf  ^etnindtg 

Bfr-181  .F47  1838"^ 
Fergus,  Henry,  1765-1837. 
Class  book  of  natural 
theology,  or.  The  testimony 


4 


///,■     a:,/./   l/,.n.;i:rl/,   h.-c,,,.,.:.    .1      TempJe    an.I    liu     //.,// 
•-/  u.t    /'/•  .„l,,rattvn 


Gould  .h.ntlaD  a  Uncolji. 


■4*-, 


CLASS   BOOK 

OF 

NATURAL  THEOLOGY; 

OR   THE 

TESTIMONY    OF    NATURE 

TO    THE 

BEING,  PERFECTIONS,  AND  GOVERNMENT  OF  GOD. 

BY    THE        /^ 

REV.  HENRY 'FERGUS. 


The  living  God,  which  made  heaven,  and  earth,  and  the  sea,  and  all 
things  that  are  therein Acts  xiv.  15. 


REVISED    AND    ENLARGED, 

AND    ADAPTED    TO 

PAXTON'S    ILLUSTRATIONS; 

WITH 

NOTES,  SELECTED  AND  ORIGINAL,  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICES,  AND  A 
VOCABULARY  OF  SCIENTIFIC  TERMS. 


REV.  CHARLES   HENRY  ALDEN,  A.  M., 

PRINCIPAL  OF  THE  PHILADELPHIA  HIGH  SCHOOL  FOR  YOUNG  LADIES. 


S:|)frlr   JBtiition,  SSlcbiseli. 


BOSTON: 
GOULD,  KENDALL,   AND  LINCOLN. 

AND    FOR    SALE    BY    THE    PRINCIPAL    BOOKSELLERS    THROUGHOUT 
THE    UNITED    STATES. 

1838. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1835, 

By  Gould,  Kendall,  «S6  Lincoln, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  Massachusetts. 


STEREOTYPED  AT  THE 
BOSTON  TYPE  AND  STEREOTYPE  FOUNDRY. 


PREFACE 


A  Class  Book  of  Natural  Theology,  adapted,  both  in  mat- 
ter and  price,  to  our  numerous  schools  of  a  higher  order,  has  long 
been  wanted,  and  the  want  regretted  by  many  judicious  parents 
and  teachers.  In  resi)ect  to  the  increasing  number  of  our  semina- 
ries for  young  ladies,  especially,  the  want  has,  hitherto,  had  no  rem- 
dy  in  the  form  of  a  text-book.  In  that  justly  popular  and  inval- 
uable work,  Paley's  Theology  Illustrated,  there  are,  it  is  found, 
some  things  not  well  adapted  to  the  ordinary  circumstances  of 
female  instruction,  and  even  of  young  gentlemen  in  many  of  our 
more  common  select  schools ;  but,  for  our  higher  seminaries  of 
learning,  for  our  colleges  and  theological  institutions,  this  work 
is  considered  indispensable. 

A  distinct  object  with  the  Editor  of  the  following  work,  has  been 
to  render  it  strictly  appropriate  both  to  the  public  and  private 
education  of  Young  Ladies  ;  there  being  no  topic  in  it  which 
may  not  be  discussed  with  entire  propriety  under  any  circum- 
stances. 

The  Notes  will  be  found  important  and  interesting ;  and  the 
adaptation  of  the  whole  to  Paxton's  admirable  Illustrations, 
is  too  obviously  useful  and  attractive  to  require  comment. 

The  Biographical  Notices,  su^ested  by  the  Editor's  knowl- 
edge of  the  general  deficiency  among  the  young  in  this  kind  of 
literature,  are  necessary  to  intelligent  students,  to  whom  large 
works  on  Biography,  Encyclopedias,  &c.  are  not  accessible.  The 
place  of  residence  and  the  works,  as  well  as  the  circumstances  of 
the  honored  benefactors  of  the  world,  and  the  period  when  they 
flourished,  ought  early  to  be  known.  This  kind  of  knowledge  is, 
to  the  young,  naturally  interesting ;  and  the  result  is,  or  ought  to 
be,  a  grateful  remembrance  of  such  men,  and  a  disposition  to 
profit  by  their  labors. 


4  PREFACE. 

The  Vocabulary  of  Scientific  Terms  will  be  found  useful 
to  such  as  have  not  had  opportunity  to  cultivate  a  familiar  ac- 
quaintance witli  the  elements  of  Natural  History,  Philosophy,  and 
Science. 

Though  a  truism,  it  is  not  useless  to  repeat  it, — an  intelligent 
and  judicious  course  of  instruction  is  a  matter,  in  our  countiy,  of 
paramount  importance.  As  soon  as  our  youth  have  compre- 
hended the  principles  of  Natural  History,  Natural  Philosophy, 
Astronomy,  and  Chemistry, — and  this  they  may  now  do  at  an 
early  age, — they  can  with  profit  enter  on  the  study  of  Natural 
Theology.  Under  the  direction  of  intelligent  and  faithful  in- 
structers,  a  knowledge  of  this  science  can  scarcely  fail  to  confirm 
moral  principle,  lead  to  habits  of  discrimination  and  study,  en- 
large the  views  of  the  tendency  of  human  actions,  encourage 
confidence  in  good  men  and  good  designs,  and  thus  add  to  the 
resources,  the  strength  and  the  adorning  of  a  country  whose  only 
way  to  "  exaltation  is  virtue." 

The  influence  of  the  study  of  this  science  on  individual  piety 
and  excellence,  commends  it  to  the  attention  of  the  best  friends 
of  man.  In  the  language  of  one  whose  purity  of  character  and 
chastened  sensibility  have  done  more  than  any  other  in  our 
language  to  invest  Virtue  in  her  native  attractiveness, 

In  the  vast,  and  the  minute,  we  see 

The  unambig-uous  footsteps  of  the  GoD 

Who  gives  its  lustre  to  an  insect's  wings, 

And  wheels  his  throne  upon  the  rolling  worlds. —  Task. 


To  those  engaged  in  the  responsible  duties  of  instructers,  the 
Editor  has  no  suggestions  to  offer  as  to  the  use  of  this,  as  a  text- 
book. They  will  not  fail  to  interest  their  classes  by  adding  at  each 
recitation  something  from  the  stores  of  their  own  experience  and 
observation,  and  endeavor  to  make  every  accession  of  knowledge 
on  the  part  of  their  pupils  an  increase  of  practical  wisdom. — Est 
animorum  ingeniorumque  naturale  quoddam  quasi  pabulum  con- 
sideratio  contemplatioque  naturae :  erigimur;  elatiores  fieri 
videmur. — Cicero. 

Philadelphia,  June,  1835. 


TO 

MRS.   EMMA  WILLARD, 

THE    DEVOTED   AND   SUCCESSFUL    PROMOTER   OF 
FEMALE    EDUCATION, 

THIS    WORK    JS    INSCRIBED, 

WITH    SENTIMENTS    OF    HIGH    CONSIDERATION 
BY 

THE   EDITOR. 


CONTENTS. 


Page. 
Introduction, 9 


BOOK  I. 

THE    ORIGIX    OF    THE    WORLD. 

Chap.  I.  The  General  Belief  of  Mankind, 11 

II.  The  Eternity  of  the  World, 14 

III.  Chance, 19 

IV.  Design, 22 


BOOK  II. 

EVIDENCES    OF    DESIGN    IN    NATURE. 

Chap.  I.  General  Observations, 28 

II.  The  Human  Eye, 30 

III.  General  View  of  the  Human  Body, 42 

IV.  The  Inferior  Animals, 54 

Sect.  1.  Form  of  the  Inferior  Animals,  r 56 

2.  Clothing  of  the  Inferior  Animals, 64 

3.  Defence  of  the  Inferior  Animals, 66 

4.  Food  of  the  Inferior  Animals, 69 

5.  Adaptations  of  the  Inferior  Animals, 72 

Insects, 75 

y .   Instinct, 77 

Sect.  1.  Means  of  Defence  and  Safety  in  the  Inferior 

Animals, 79 

2.  Means  of  procuring  their  Food, 81 

3.  Their  Habitations, 82 

4.  Continuation  of  the  Species, 83 

VI.  The  Ocean, 91 

Sect.  1.  General  View  of  the  Ocean, 92 

2.  Uses  of  the  Ocean, 96 

VII.  Water,  as  a  chemical  Substance, 97 

VIII.  The  General  Appearance  of  the  Earth,  and  Vegetation,  114 

IX.  The  Atmosphere, 122 

X.  Light, 129 


8  CONTENTS. 

Page. 

Chap.  XI.  Astronomy, 131 

Sect.  1.  Forms  of  the  Heavenly  Bodies, 132 

2.  Arrangement  of  the  Heavenly  Bodies, 135 

3.  Motions  of  the  Heavenly  Bodies, 139 

Fixed  Stars, 143 


BOOK  III. 

THE    PERFECTIONS    OF    DEITy. 

Chap.  I.  The  Unity  of  Deity, 148 

II.  The  Power  of  Deity, 152 

II.  The  Wisdom  of  Deity, 153 

V.  The  Goodness  of  Deity., 155 

V.  The  Character  and  State  of  Man, 160 

Man  an  immortal  Being, 160 

Man  an  accountable  Being, 166 

VI.  Evil  in  the  World, 171 

Sect.  1.  Evils  of  Imperfection, 173 

2.  Moral  Evil, 176 

3.  Natural  Evil, 184 

Physical  Constitution  of  the  Earth, 191 

Nature  of  some  of  the  Inferior  Animals, 206 

The  Pains  and  Sorrows  to  which  Man  is  ex- 
posed from  his  Constitution,  and  the  Cir- 
cumstances in  which  he  is  placed, 214 


Vocabulary, , 221 


PAXTON'S  ILLUSTRATIONS,  with  Descriptions, 225 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  proofs  of  the  Being,  Perfections,  and  Government  of  God 
may  be  indefinitely  increased ;  for,  as  our  knowledge  of  creation 
extends,  the  evidences  of  design  multiply  upon  us.  It  is  the  aim 
of  the  following  Treatise  to  show,  within  narrow  limits,  that  con- 
trivance, wisdom,  and  goodness  appear  not  in  one  province  only, 
but  in  ev^eiy  department  of  the  Universe  which  falls  under  our 
observation.  Ray,  Derham,*  and  Pa  ley  have  distinguished  them- 
selves in  this  branch  of  learning;  and  of  their  excellent  works  the 
Author  has  occasionally  availed  himself. 

The  subject  is  of  universal  interest,  and  has  a  paramount  claim  to 
earnest  attention.  Without  reverence  for  Deity,  man  is  a  degraded 
and  forlorn  prodigal ;  but  religion  felicitates  and  exalts  our  nature ; 
and  it  is  the  first  stej)  in  religion  to  believe  that  God  is,  and  "  that 
he  is  the  Rewarder  of  them  who  diligently  seek  him."  Creation 
declares  the  existence  of  the  Creator,  invites  us  to  contemplate  his 
perfections  in  the  works  of  his  hand,  reminds  us  of  our  relation  to 
Him  in  "  whom  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being,"  and 
claims  our  grateful  adoration  for  his  unwearied  kindness  towards 
us.     To  accustom  ourselves  to  recognize  the  hand  of  God  in  the 

*  Ray  was  an  English  naturalist,  who,  from  a  very  humble  origin,  rose  to 
distinction.  He  was  a  fellow  at  Cambridge,  but  resigned  on  the  restoration 
of  Charles  II.,  from  political  considerations.  He  devoted  the  remainder  of  his 
life  to  science  and  literature,  and  became  the  author  of  several  works  on  Natu- 
ral History  and  Natural  Theology.  The  work  referred  to  in  the  text  is  en- 
titled "  The  Wisdom  of  God  manifested  in  the  Works  of  Creation.''  He  died 
1705,  aet.  77.  Many  of  his  writings  were  afterwards  collected  and  published 
by  Derham,  of  Oxford,  who  devoted  his  life  to  philosophy,  humanity,  and  re- 
ligion. He  was  author  of  no  fewer  than  forty  works,  chiefly  on  pliilosophical 
subjects.  His  "  Astro-Theology,"  and  his  "  Physico-Theology,"  published  in 
1714,  are  the  volumes  here  referred  to.     He  died  1735,  set*  78. 


10  INTRODUCTION 

appearances  of  nature  and  the  events  of  providence,  to  observe 
the  adaptation  of  parts  to  each  other,  and  the  combuiation  of  means 
for  the  attainment  of  ends,  is  an  exercise  worthy  of  the  high  fac- 
ulties which  our  Maker  has  bestowed  upon  us,  and  cannot  fail  to 
promote  both  our  mtellectual  and  moral  improvement. 

To  whatever  quarter  we  turn  our  eye,  we  find  ample  materials 
for  this  study.  Animate  and  inanimate  nature  are  alike  instruc- 
tive ;  and  their  relation  to  each  other  indicates  that  unity  of  coun- 
sel which  presided  in  the  formation  of  the  world.  The  atmosphere, 
for  example,  though  invisible,  connects  distant  and  dissimilar  parts 
of  the  system,  and  combmes  them  for  the  accomplishment  of  ben- 
eficial purposes.  Without  it  no  animal  could  live,  no  plant  grow, 
no  light  shine,  and  no  sound  be  heard;  all  would  be  sterility, 
desolation,  and  silence.  But  the  earth  is  fitted  up  as  a  pleasant 
habitation  for  many  sentient  creatures.  Man  is  its  noblest  in- 
habitant ;  and,  in  order  to  understand  the  plan  of  the  Almighty 
with  regard  to  him,  it  is  necessary  to  attend  to  his  character  and 
condition.  He  is  a  rational,  immortal,  and  accountable  being,  in  a 
course  of  education  for  a  higher  stage  of  existence.  He  is  subject 
to  trials ;  and  tliose  trials  have  been  eagerly  seized,  and  plausibly 
urged,  as  inconsistent  with  the  attributes  of  a  benevolent  Creator. 
The  structure  of  the  earth,  the  qualities  of  some  of  the  inferior 
animals,  and  the  vices  and  miseries  of  mankind,  have  been  favor- 
ite arguments  among  infidels.  To  meet  and  answer  the  skeptical 
conclusions  which  have  been  drawn  from  these  facts,  is  the  design 
of  a  considerable  portion  of  the  following  work;  but  we  trust  its 
limits  will  not  be  considered  as  exceeding  its  importance. 


BOOK  I. 

THE    ORIGIN    OF  THE    WORLD 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    GENERAL    BELIEF    OF    MANKIND. 

Crantz,*  in  his  History  of  Greenland,  tells  us  that  a  na- 
tive of  that  country  once  addressed  him  in  the  following  man- 
ner : — "  It  is  true  we  were  ignorant  heathens,  and  knew  little 
of  God  till  you  came.  But  you  must  not  imagine  that  no 
Greenlander  thinks  about  those  things.  A  kajak  (a  Green- 
land boat),  with  all  its  tackle  and  implements,  cannot  exist 
but  by  the  labor  of  man.  But  the  formation  of  the  meanest 
bird  requires  more  skill  than  that  of  the  best  kajak ;  and  no 
man  can  make  a  bird.  There  is  still  more  skill  required  to 
make  a  man  :  by  whom  then  was  he  made?  He  proceeded 
from  his  parents,  and  they  from  their  parents.  But  some 
must  have  been  the  first  parents ;  and  whence  did  they  pro- 
ceed ?  Common  report  says  they  grew  out  of  the  earth.  If 
so,  why  do  not  men  grow  out  of  the  earth  still  ?  And  whence 
came  the  earth  itself,  the  sun,  the  moon,  and  the  stars?  Cer- 
tainly there  must  be  some  Being  who  made  all  these  things — 
a  Being  more  wise  than  the  wisest  man."  Such  was  the 
reasoning  of  the  untutored  inhabitant  of  the  frozen  coast  of 
Greenland;  and  in  some  such  way  have  mankind  always 
reasoned ;  for  no  truth  has  been  more  universally  received 
than  the  existence  of  God.    "  Who,"  says  iElian,t  "  does  not 

*  "  The  History  of  Greenland,  containing  a  Description  of  the  Country  and  its 
Inhabitants,  and  particularly  a  Relation  of  the  Mission  carried  on  by  the  Unitas 
Fratrum,"  London,  1787 — a  well-executed  and  highly-interesting-  work. 

t  For  an  account  of  this  writer,  and  of  those  he  here  refers  to,  see  Anthonys 
Letnpriere's  Classical  Dictionary,  to  which  the  student  should  refer  as  often  as 
a  classic  author  is  named,  unless  already  familiar. 


12        THE  GENERAL  BELIEF  OF  MANKIND. 

admire  the  wisdom  of  the  barbarians,  none  of  whom  ever  fell 
into  the  atheistical  absurdities  of  Eumenes,  Diagoras,  Epi- 
curus, and  other  pliilosophers?  No  Indian,  Celt,  or  Egyp- 
tian, ever  questioned  whether  there  were  Gods,  or  whether 
they  concerned  themselves  with  the  affairs  of  men," 

Some  errors  and  some  vices  characterize  society  in  par- 
ticular stages  of  its  progress,  or  when  placed  in  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances; but  atheism  is  never  the  error  of  society,  in  any 
stage  or  in  any  circumstances  whatsoever.  It  is  the  hypoth- 
esis of  a  few  thinly-scattered  individuals  in  civilized  nations, 
at  times  when,  from  caprice,  vanity,  and  ostentation,  the 
most  obvious  truths  are  denied,  and  the  most  whimsical  and 
pernicious  paradoxes  are  zealously  published  and  defended. 
Belief  in  the  existence  of  God  has  prevailed  in  every  age,  and 
in  every  quarter  of  the  world,  and  in  every  stage  of  society. 
In  this  point  the  savage  and  the  sage  have  agreed.  The  rude 
hunter  of  the  wilderness,  and  the  polished  inhabitant  of  the 
magnificent  city,  between  whom  there  is  a  vast  difference  of 
habits,  of  knowledge,  and  of  opinions,  unite  in  the  belief  of 
the  existence  of  Deity,  and  with  equal  earnestness  supplicate 
his  favor.  On  this  subject,  the  great  error  has  been,  not  the 
denial  of  one  God,  but  the  belief  of  many  :  polytheism,  how- 
ever, has  been  a  popular  and  poetical  rather  than  a  philosoph- 
ical error.  Men  have  entertained  false  notions  of  the  nature 
of  God,  but  still  they  have  believed  in  his  existence;  and  the 
erroneous  conceptions  which  have  accompanied  this  belief, 
instead  of  attaching  any  discredit  to  the  interesting  truth, 
tend  to  confirm  it.  They  show  that  the  existence  of  Deity  is 
so  plainly  engraven  on  the  face  of  nature,  and  so  consentane- 
ous to  the  dictates  of  reason,  and  to  the  unperverted  feelings 
of  the  human  mind,  that  it  meets  with  a  ready  reception,  even 
when  accompanied  by  absurdities. 

Is  it  alleged  that  some  tribes  of  human  beings  have  been 
found,  among  whom  no  traces  of  belief  in  the  existence  of 
Deity  were  discoverable  ?  The  allegation  is  questionable. 
Of  these  tribes  we  know  too  little  to  speak  with  certainty  of 
their  creed ;  and  even  supposing  the  affirmation  founded  on 
fact,  it  must  not  be  forgotten,  tliat  those  tribes  are  in  a  state 
of  extreme  degradation ;  and  that  they  are  not  to  be  consid- 
ered as  denying  the  existence  of  God,  but  as  being  so  brutal 
as  to  have  no  opinion  or  belief  on  the  subject.  Belief  in  the 
existence  of  Deity  has  all  the  authority  which  it  can  derive 
from  opinion  :  it  has  the  general  suffrage  of  the  human  race. 
This  is  no  slight  presumption  of  the  truth  of  the  thing  believ- 
ed ;  for  where  mankind,  in  all  the  different  circumstances  in 


THE    GENERAL    BELIEF    OF    MANKIND.  13 

which  they  have  been  placed,  have  generally  agreed  on  any 
great  point  relating  to  their  common  interest,  their  agreement 
may  fairly  be  interpreted  as  the  dictate  of  their  nature,  and 
consequently  may  be  considered  as  having  a  rational  claim 
to  general  reception. 

For  the  general  belief  in  the  existence  of  God,  there  must 
be  an  adequate  cause.  Where  shall  we  find  such  a  cause 
but  in  the  appearances  of  the  universe  indicating  a  powerful, 
wise,  and  good  Being,  the  Creator  of  all  things  ?  It  is  in 
vain  to  attribute  this  belief  to  tradition.  Tradition  cannot 
account  for  the  fact ;  for  the  question  immediately  occurs, 
What  was  the  origin  of  the  tradition  ?  Besides,  no  mere 
tradition  could  have  been  so  widely  and  permanently  dif- 
fused :  it  could  not  have  been  preserved  among  all  tribes  of 
men,  and  amidst  all  the  vicissitudes  of  the  human  race.  The 
flimsy  allegation  which  ascribes  the  origin  of  this  belief  to 
the  artifices  of  interested  politicians,  is  unworthy  of  notice, 
and  may  be  dismissed  with  contempt.  If  general  opinion 
and  belief,  then,  could  place  any  truth  beyond  the  reach  of 
controversy,  the  question  concerning  the  being  of  God  would, 
long  ere  now,  have  been  finally  determined ;  for  on  no  other 
points  have  mankind  so  generally  agreed  as  in  believing  the 
existence  of  God,  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  But,  al- 
though belief  in  the  existence  of  God  has  been  general,  yet 
it  has  not  been  universal ;  for  the  fool,  says  an  ancient  sage, 
has  said  in  his  heart,  There  is  no  God, 

The  general  belief  of  mankind  is  not,  of  itself,  decisive 
evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  thing  believed.  But,  even  as 
evidence,  it  is  not  hastily  to  be  dismissed  from  our  minds, 
unless  we  can  point  out,  in  a  clear  and  satisfactory  manner, 
the  causes  of  general  error.  Men  have  been  led  to  the  con- 
clusion that  there  is  a  God  by  the  appearances  of  the  universe; 
and  if  those  appearances,  when  calmly  and  rationally  con- 
templated, justify  the  conclusion,  then  the  opinion  which  it 
establishes  is  entitled  to  a  cordial  reception  by  the  candid 
and  serious  inquirer  after  truth.  It  has,  indeed,  been  at- 
tempted, in  different  ways,  to  evade  the  conclusion  now  men- 
tioned. It  has  been  alleged  by  some,  that  the  world  is  eter- 
nal ;  and  others  have  been  of  opinion  that  the  universe  is  a 
casual  production.  These  speculations  claim  some  notice, 
although  they  need  not  detain  us  long. 
2 


14  THE    ETERNITY    OP   THE    WORLD. 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE    ETERNITY    OF    THE    WORLD. 

The  belief  of  the  first  men  of  whose  opinions  we  have  any 
record,  the  progressive  population  of  the  world,  the  recent 
origin  of  arts  and  sciences,  ancient  tradition  and  early  histo- 
ry, all  militate  against  the  eternity  of  the  world.  We  are 
not  now  speaking  of  inert  matter  only,  but  of  the  whole 
system  of  things  as  we  see  it.  For  if  it  be  admitted  that 
any  part  of  the  system  is  not  eternal,  then  the  whole  hy- 
pothesis falls  to  the  ground.  Either  all  is  eternal,  or  we 
have  no  reason  to  conclude  that  any  part  is  so.  But  how 
can  the  human  race  be  eternal  1  I  exist ;  but  I  do  not 
necessarily  exist,  for  once  I  was  not.  I  did  not  bring  myself 
into  existence.  My  parents  were  not  their  own  creators : 
and  although  I  go  back  as  far  as  the  wing  of  imagination  can 
bear  me,  still  I  am  as  unable  satisfactorily  to  account  for  the 
existence  of  those  whom  I  then  find  alive,  as  I  am  to  account 
for  my  own  existence,  or  for  the  existence  of  those  who  have 
lived  at  any  intermediate  period.  By  going  backward,  I  re- 
move the  difficulty  from  one  point  to  another  ;  but  still,  at 
any  given  point,  that  difficulty  is  just  the  same  as  when  it 
first  met  me.  According,  however,  to  the  constitution  of 
my  nature,  I  cannot  rest  satisfied  till  I  come  either  to  a  self- 
created  or  to  a  necessarily-existing  being.  But  a  self-cre- 
ated being  involves  a  contradiction.  It  involves  existence 
and  non-existence  at  the  same  time.  I  must,  therefore,  ar- 
rive at  a  necessarily-existing,  and,  consequently,  eternal 
Being,  as  the  Ji)'st  cause  of  my  own  existence. 

Thus  I  think,  that,  according  to  the  constitution  of  my 
nature,  I  must  either  believe  in  an  eternal  and  intelligent 
first  cause,  or  in  something  at  least  equally  incomprehensible, 
and  also  altogether  absurd.  To  talk  of  an  infinite  succession 
of  beings  such  as  man,  is  merely  an  unphilosophical  attempt 
to  push  out  of  sight  the  difficulty  of  accounting  for  our  first 
formation  ;  but  that  difficulty  it  in  no  degree  removes.  For, 
according  to  this  hypothesis,  how  high  soever  we  ascend,  M'e 
find  no  animated  being  but  wliat  has  derived  its  existence 
from  a  being  of  the  same  kind  with  itself  Still  we  meet 
with  plain  marks  of  design;  but  the  designing  cause  we 
have  not  found.  Contrivance  is  obvious  ;  but  the  contriving 
mind,  which  must  have  existed  before  the  contrivance,  we 
have  not  discovered.     It  may  be  added,  that  the  speculations 


THE    ETERNITY    OF    THE    WORLD.  15 

of  those  who  have  attempted  to  trace  the  vestiges  of  the  hu- 
man race  to  a  very  remote  antiquity,  have  not  been  success- 
ful. There  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  men  have  existed  on 
the  earth  above  six  or  seven  thousand  years. 

Our  globe  has  undergone  some  great  revolutions.  This 
the  structure  of  its  parts,  and  the  organic  remains  found 
in  it,  clearly  prove.  But  these  revolutions  were  antecedent 
to  the  race  of  Adam.  The  organic  remains  indicate  no 
traces  of  human  beings.  Neither  reason  nor  revelation  re- 
quire us  to  believe,  that  the  matter  of  this  world  was  first 
called  into  existence  at  the  time  of  the  creation  mentioned  in 
the  Jewish  Scriptures.  It  may  have  existed  before  in  differ- 
ent forms,  and  may  have  undergone  many  changes.  But 
having  been  deranged  and  reduced  to  a  chaotic  mass  by 
some  mighty  catastrophe,  it  was  then  fitted  up  for  the  recep- 
tion of  new  inhabitants  and  the  exhibition  of  new  scenes,  and 
was  subjected  to  laws  adapted  to  the  new  order  of  things. 

Geological  speculations  can  never  be  successfully  employ- 
ed in  ascertaining  the  antiquity  of  the  human  race ;  for  how 
shall  we  determine  the  state  of  matter  when  our  globe  was 
first  subjected  to  the  operation  of  those  laws  under  which  it 
now  exists  ?  To  apply  the  result  of  observations  on  the  pres- 
ent order  of  nature  to  a  state  of  things  anterior  to,  and  per- 
haps altogether  different  from,  the  present  system,  can  lead  to 
no  correct  conclusions.  In  an  investigation  of  this  kind,  the 
very  first  point  to  be  ascertained  is,  the  state  of  matter  when 
the  present  system  of  laws  began  to  operate ;  a  point  which 
no  human  industry  or  ingenuity  can  ascertain ;  and  without 
which,  any  speculations  on  this  subject,  with  a  view  to  de- 
termine the  antiquity  of  the  world,  are  mere  illusions.  Nay, 
from  the  phenomena  of  the  existing  system,  rash  and  hasty 
conclusions  may  be  drawn,  which,  although  at  first  sight 
plausible,  will  not  bear  the  test  of  examination.  The  argu- 
ment of  Recupero,  founded  on  the  lavas  of  J^tna,  might  have 
been  considered  decisive,  had  not  the  ruins  of  Herculaneum 
demonstrated  its  fallacy. 

The  astronomical  arguments  which  have  been  adduced  on 
this  subject,  are  as  deceitful  and  unsatisfactory  as  those  of  a 
geological  kind.  Astronomy  is  incomparably  the  more  ad- 
vanced of  the  two  sciences ;  but  the  history  of  astronomy  is 
imperfect,  and,  on  some  points,  very  uncertain.  Much  has 
been  said  of  the  high  antiquity  of  the  Indian  astronomical 
tables;    but  the  eloquence  of  Bailly*   and  the  science  of 

*  A  famous  astronomer  of  Paris,  author  of  the  "  History  of  Ancient  cuid  Mod- 
em Astronomy,"  and  of  ■'  Indian  and  Oriental  Astronomy."  and  other  vciluable 
works.    He  was  giiillotLncd  during  the  reign  of  Terror  in  France,  1793. 


16  THE    ETERNITY    OP    THE    WORLD. 

Playfair  have  not  succeeded  in  proving  them  to  be  founded 
on  observation.  There  is  good  reason  to  believe  that  they 
were  formed  by  computation.  This  is  the  opinion  of  La 
Place,  and  it  is  strongly  supported  by  the  arguments  of 
Bentley.*  The  probability  is  that  Indian  science,  instead 
of  being  of  high  antiquity,  was  derived  from  the  Arabians, 
through  the  Greeks  and  Persians.  According  to  Montucla, 
the  distinguished  historian  of  science,  the  most  ancient  Chi- 
nese observations  are  2155  years  before  the  Christian  era; 
being,  according  to  Usher's  f  chronology,  about  100  years  be- 
fore the  birih  of  the  patriarch  Abraham.  If  the  Fohii:  of  the 
Chinese  be  the  Noah  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  he  may  have 
transported  into  that  country  the  faint  lights  of  antediluvian 
science. § 

An  argument  in  favor  of  the  high  antiquity  of  the  human 
race  has  been  founded  on  the  zodiacs  in  the  temples  of  La- 
topolis  and  Tentyra,  two  ancient  cities  in  the  Upper  Egypt. 
This  argument  rests  on  a  great  astronomical  fact — the  pre- 
cession of  the  equinoxes.  The  equinoctial  and  solstitial  points 
do  not  invariably  occupy  the  same  places  in  the  ecliptic,  but 
have  a  retrograde  motion  of  about  50^"  in  the  year ;  by  which 
they  will  accomplish  a  revolution  in  about  25,750  years. 
Now,  in  the  zodiac  of  Latopolis,  the  modern  Esneh,  Leo,  we 
are  told,  is  represented  as  the  last  of  the  ascending  signs ; 
and  it  has  been  stated  that  a  sphinx  there  represents  the  sun 
at  the  summer  solstice,  just  in  the  point  where  the  last  degree 
of  Leo  meets  the  first  degree  of  Virgo.  But  at  present,  the 
colure  of  the  summer  solstice  is  in  the  first  degree  of  Gemini  ; 
and  therefore  it  has  been  inferred,  that  as  the  space  between 
the  first  degree  of  Gemini  and  the  last  degree  of  Leo,  is  to 
the  whole  of  the  ecliptic,  so  must  the  period  elapsed  since 
the  construction  of  the  zodiac  of  Latopolis  be  to  25,750 
years.  This  inference  would  no  doubt  be  consequentially 
drawn,  if  it  were  proved  that  the  above  was  a  true  explana- 
tion of  the  zodiac  of  Latopolis,  and  that  that  zodiac  was  a 
correct  picture  of  the  heavens  at  the  time  of  its  formation. 
But  on  these  points,  doubts  and  suspicions  crowd  in  upon  us. 
Plutarch    and    Macrobius  would  have  been    surprised    and 

*  An  eminent  critic  and  divine,  who,  from  an  humble  origin,  raised  himself  to 
high  distinction.  The  work  of  his  here  referred  to,  is  "  Critical  Observations  on 
John  Malala's  Chronolog-y."     This  superior  scholar  died,  1742,  set.  80. 

t  Archbishop  of  Armagh,  a  distinguished  scholar  and  divine,  and  author  of  a 
most  elaborate  and  invaluable  work  here  referred  to — ■"  Annals  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testaments."     His  productions  were  various  and  numerous. 

X  Fohi  was,  according  to  the  Chinese,  the  founder  of  their  monarchy,  about 
20  years  after  the  deluge.  He  is  said  to  have  reigned  115  years.  His  memory 
is  still  revered  in  China. 

i  Wallace's  Dissertation  on  Hindoo  Astronomy. 


THE    ETERNITY    OF    THE    WORLD.  17 

amused  to  hear  the  sphinx  spoken  of  as  an  emblem  of  the 
sun.  The  Egyptians,  it  is  true,  worshipped  that  luminary 
under  different  names  and  symbols ;  but  the  sphinx  was  not 
one  of  them.  To  imagine,  then,  that  this  symbol  represents 
the  sun,  is  a  gratuitous  and  unauthorized  assumption. 

Besides,  there  is  no  good  reason  to  believe  that  the  zodiac 
of  Latopolis  was  a  correct  picture  of  the  heavens  at  the  time 
of  its  formation.  Although  we  allow  the  highest  praise  to 
the  genius  and  industry  of  ancient  astronomers,  yet  it  cannot 
be  denied  that  their  instruments  were  rude  and  clumsy,  and 
many  of  their  observations  inaccurate.  They  erred  more 
than  half  a  degree  in  the  latitude  of  Syene,  a  place  at  no 
great  distance  from  Latopolis  ;  and  does  this  encourage  the 
presumption  that  they  were  qualified  to  give  a  correct  delin- 
eation of  the  zodiac  ?  The  Egyptians  were,  moreover,  very 
vain,  and  boasted  of  a  high  antiquity.  After  the  days  of 
Hipparchus,  might  they  not  give  false  representations  of  the 
heavens,  with  a  view  to  countenance  and  encourage  this 
vanity  ?  It  may  be  remarked,  that  the  decorations  of  the 
Egyptian  temples  are  not  of  the  same  antiquity  with  the  tem- 
ples themselves. 

Farther,  in  the  zodiac  of  Tentyra,  the  modern  Dendera, 
Leo  is  not  represented  as  the  last  of  the  ascending,  but  as 
the  first  of  the  descending  signs.  Does  not  this  show  that 
one,  if  not  both  of  those  zodiacs,  is  posterior  to  the  time  of 
Hipparchus  ?  For,  if  one  of  those  zodiacs  represents  Leo  as 
the  last  of  the  ascending,  and  the  other  as  the  first  of  the  de- 
scending signs,  was  not  this  (supposing  those  zodiacs  to  be 
correct)  a  demonstration  that  the  solstitial,  and  consequently 
the  equinoctial,  points  are  movable  ?  But  this,  as  is  well 
known,  was  the  grand  discovery  of  Hipparchus, — a  discovery 
in  no  degree  owing  to  the  zodiacs  of  Latopolis  and  Tentyra, 
but  made  by  comparing  his  own  observations  with  those  of 
Aristyllus  and  Timochares,  about  150  years  before.  Hip- 
parchus diligently  inquired  into  all  the  observations  of  Chal- 
dean and  Egyptian  astronomers ;  but,  although  it  is  probable 
that  the  former  of  those  nations  cultivated  astronomy  before 
the  latter,  yet  he  could  find  no  observations  that  had  been 
made  at  Babylon,  previous  to  the  reign  of  Nabonassar,  747 
years  before  Christ.  Berosus,  a  Chaldean,  who  lived  about 
300  years  before  the  Christian  era,  knew  of  no  monuments  of 
Chaldean  astronomy  more  ancient  than  480  years  before  his 
own  time ;  and  neither  Hipparchus  nor  Ptolemy  ever  heard 
of  observations  for  1903  years  transmitted  by  Callisthenes  to 
Aristotle,  about  the  year  331  before  Christ.  Simplicius,  a 
2* 


18  THE    ETERNITY    OF    THE    WORLD. 

peripatetic  philosopher,  and  commentator  on  Aristotle,  who 
lived  in  the  sixth  century  of  the  Christian  era,  makes  men- 
tion of  such  observations;  but  his  authority  and  that  of  Por- 
phyry, from  whom  he  borrowed  the  story,  are  too  modern  to 
be  entitled  to  any  regard.  In  short,  these  Egyptian  zodiacs 
were  unknown  to  Hipparchus ;  and  if  they  had  existed  in  his 
time,  would  they  have  escaped  the  notice  of  that  careful  ob- 
server and  indefatigable  inquirer  ?  Would  he  not  have  ap- 
pealed to  them,  as  well  as  to  the  observations  of  Aristyllus 
and  Timochares,  in  proof  of  the  precession  of  the  equinoxes  ] 
But  it  is  needless  to  dwell  longer  on  the  subject,  for  there  is 
no  evidence  that  the  Egyptians  had  zodiacs,  with  our  signs 
and  names,  before  the  establishment  of  the  Greeks  in  that 
country.* 

It  has  been  said  that  all  things  sprung  from  necessity.  Ne- 
cessity, however,  is  not  an  agent,  but  the  state  or  condition 
of  an  agent ;  and  if  they  who  use  the  word,  in  the  sense 
under  consideration,  attach  any  distinct  conceptions  to  their 
language,  they  must  by  it  understand  an  agent  acting  neces- 
sarily. But  an  agent  acting  necessarily  is  in  reality  no  agent, 
but  merely  an  instrument  in  the  hand  of  another.  Such, 
however,  is  the  constitution  of  our  nature,  that  we  cannot  rest 
satisfied  till  we  find  a  being  operating,  not  by  necessity,  but 
by  will  and  choice.  We  must  find  an  efficient  cause  that 
had  power  to  give,  or  not  to  give,  existence  to  every  crea- 
ture. Necessity  must  result  from  something  antecedent  to 
itself. 

Some  persons  talk  of  appetency.  What  do  they  mean  by 
the  word  ?  Is  it  chemical  affinity  ?  If  it  be  so,  we  understand 
the  signification  of  the  language,  but  cannot  conceive  with 
what  propriety  it  is  introduced  on  the  present  occasion.  Has 
chemical  affinity  ever  formed  an  organized  being?  If  any 
person  hazard  the  affirmative,  let  him  produce  an  example  : 
this  he  cannot  do.  But  appetency,  it  may  be  said,  is  an  en- 
deavor perpetually  and  imperceptibly  working  its  effects 
through  a  long  succession  of  generations.  We  know  that 
the  perennial  mountain  stream  operates  insensibly,  and  in 
the  course  of  ages  hollows  out  a  channel  in  the  rock  :  but 
we  know  of  no  such  operation  producing  either  a  plant  or  an 
animal. 

To  talk,  as  some  have  talked,  of  "  Nature  forminir  the 
first  rudiments  of  organization,  or  spontaneous  generations, 

*  Dr.  Richardson,  in  his  Travels,  thinks  it  requires  a  good  deal  of  iniag'ina- 
tion  to  make  the  drawings  in  these  temples  zodiacs  ;  and  some  late  interpreters 
of  the  hieroglyphics  make  them  the  work  of  Roman  emperors. 


CHANCE.  19 

which  gradually,  in  a  long  series  of  ages,  and  under  the  mod- 
ifying influence  of  different  circumstances,  appear  in  all  the 
organized  forms  which  exist  on  the  earth,"  is,  to  say  the 
least  of  it,  something  that  requires  explanation,  or  that  cannot 
be  proved.  What  are  we  to  understand  by  Nature  1  The 
word  may  be  used  figuratively  for  the  Author  of  Nature ;  or 
it  may  mean  that  order  and  constitution  of  things  which  the 
Supreme  Intelligence  has  established  and  maintains.  In 
this  last  sense,  it  is  of  the  same  import  with  the  Laws  of 
Nature.  Now,  to  talk  of  the  laws  of  nature,  to  the  exclusion 
of  an  Intelligent  Agent,  is  absurd.  The  very  term  law  im- 
plies such  an  agent.  Law  is  not  an  agent.  It  is  not  en- 
dowed with  active  power,  and  therefore  cannot  be  a  cause, 
in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word.  Law  is  the  expression  of 
mind,  and  the  rule  according  to  which  intelligence  acts. 
Without  the  agent  the  law  is  nothing.  Without  his  agency 
it  never  could  have  existed,  for  it  merely  expresses  the  manner 
of  his  procedure. 

Where  is  the  proof  that  Nature  has  formed  all  her  produc- 
tions after  long  periods  of  time?  Show  us  an  example  of 
the  first  rudiments  of  organization,  or  a  spontaneous  genera- 
tion. Show  us  any  one  of  those  rudiments  in  the  first  stage 
of  its  progress,  or  undergoing  any  of  those  metamorphoses 
through  which  it  passes  in  advancing  to  a  more  perfect  form. 
At  any  assumed  point,  tell  us  what  was  its  last  form,  and 
what  will  be  its  next.  Men  and  other  animals  are  still  such  as 
they  have  always  been.  But  a  hypothesis,  countenanced  by 
no  known  fact  in  nature,  has  no  legitimate  claim  to  the  char- 
acter of  philosophy,  and  may  be  fairly  dismissed  as  a  dream. 


CHAPTER  III. 


Some  persons  have  been  of  opinion  that  Chance  was  the 
author  of  all  things.  What  is  Chance  ?  In  common  lan- 
guage, by  this  word  we  express  our  ignorance  of  a  cause,  or 
our  want  of  intention.  When  we  say  a  thing  happened  by 
chance,  we  do  not  mean  to  describe  chance  as  the  cause  of 
the  fact  or  event,  but  merely  to  say  that  we  are  ignorant  of 
the  cause,  or  that  the  event  happened  without  intention  on 
our  part.  The  atheist,  however,  uses  the  word  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  an  intelligent  and  designing  cause  from  the  formation 


20  .  CHANCE. 

of  the  universe.  But  how  did  chance  produce  either  matter 
or  motion  ?  We  may  indeed  be  told  that  we  are  equally  ig- 
norant how  an  intelligent  cause  operated  in  the  production  of 
those  effects.  It  may  be  so.  But  by  the  introduction  of 
Deity,  we  assign  an  intelligent  and  sufficient  cause  for  all 
the  phenomena,  although  we  may  not  comprehend  the  man- 
ner in  which  this  cause  operated  in  their  production. 

But  although  matter  and  motion  be  given,  the  difficulties 
of  the  chance  philosopher  are  little  diminished.  How  do 
chance,  matter,  and  motion,  produce  an  organized  substance  ? 
How  do  they  form  a  sentient  being  1  How  do  they  consti- 
tute and  maintain  a  system  of  animated  and  rational  exist- 
ence ?  We  confidently  affirm  that  chance,  matter,  and  mo- 
tion, have  never  formed,  and  never  will  form,  an  organic 
structure.  Let  all  the  men  of  the  world  employ  the  best  ef- 
forts of  their  reason  and  ingenuity  in  arranging  and  com- 
bining matter  in  thousands  and  millions  of  different  ways, 
still  they  cannot  produce  a  single  plant  or  a  single  animal  in 
any  other  than  the  common  way.  By  a  proper  adjustment 
of  the  temperature,  they  may  supply  the  incubation  of  the 
bird ;  but  without  the  bird  they  cannot  form  the  egg.  Has 
chance,  then,  produced  that  rich  and  beautiful  variety  of 
vegetable,  sentient,  and  rational  nature,  which  adorns  and 
felicitates  our  earth  ?  and  is  Man,  with  all  his  reason  and 
science,  unable  to  succeed  in  a  single  instance  ?  That  un- 
thinking and  undesigning  chance  should  produce  intelligent 
and  designing  beings,  is  a  notion  utterly  unfit  for  gaining 
admission  into  the  human  mind.  The  understanding  of 
mankind  revolts  from  it.  Their  observation  and  experience 
pronounce  it  untrue. 

If  the  fortuitous  concourse  of  atoms  has  formed  all  things — 
if  the  different  orders  of  sentient  beings  have  sprung  from 
accidental  combinations  of  matter — how  happens  it  that  al- 
chemists and  chemists,  in  all  their  mixtures  for  discovering 
the  philosopher's  stone,  or  even  for  making  phosphorus,  have 
not  hit  upon  any  new  combination  which  produced  a  living 
creature — a  fly  or  a  frog,  a  monkey  or  a  man?  Franklin 
has  taught  us  to  rob  the  clouds  of  their  lightning.     Gulvani* 

*  The  physiolog'ist  of  Rolog-na,  and  the  famous  discoverer  of  thai  liranch  of 
electricity  which  bears  his  name — Galvanism.  While  preparing-  brotli  from 
frogs  for  liis  sick  wife,  he  perceived  the  muscles  of  these  animals  violently  con- 
vulsed, by  the  touch  of  a  dissecting-  knife.  He  devoted  much  attention  "to  the 
subject,  and  ascertained  a  great  number  of  facts  now  well  known,  lie  died 
1798,  aet.  61.  The  subject  was  further  investigated  and  reduced  to  a  more 
perfect  system  by  Volta,  whose  name  is  given  to  some  modifications  of  galvanic 
apparatus. 


CHANCE.  21 

and  Volta  have  discovered  combinations  of  matter  by  which, 
even  after  the  vital  spark  is  extinguished,  the  animal  frame 
can  be  thrown  into  violent  contortions.  But  no  philosopher 
has  discovered  a  new  process  for  forming  any  one  living 
creature.  It  is  not  unreasonable,  however,  to  think  that,  if 
the  system  of  the  chance  philosophers  had  any  foundation  in 
truth,  new  processes  for  making  living  creatures  would  long 
ere  now  have  been  discovered  ;  and  that  he  would  have  been 
as  well  acquainted  with  receipts  for  forming  animals  of  new 
kinds,  and  also  with  different  ways  of  making  those  that  for- 
merly existed,  as  we  are  with  prescriptions  for  procuring 
oxygen  gas,  or  red  fire. 

If  chance  produced  all  things  at  first,  why  do  we  not  see 
chance  opprating  still  ?  If  chance  reared  the  world,  why  do 
we  never  see  it  building  a  palace  or  a  cottage  ?  If  chance 
made  man,  why  does  it  never  draw  a  portrait  ?  If  all  things 
be  the  offspring  of  chance,  how  happens  it  that  we  do  not 
see  new  forms  rising  into  life — animals  unheard  of  before  ap- 
pearing in  the  world  ;  and  all  the  fictions  of  the  poets  real- 
ized ?  How  happens  it  that  the  casual  concurrence  of  atoms 
does  not  derange  the  system  which  it  had  formed,  and  alter 
it  in  a  thousand  different  ways ;  that  we  never  see  a  tree 
changing  into  a  man,  nor  a  man  dwindling  into  a  mushroom ; 
nor  a  human  head  united  to  a  horse's  neck  ?  Has  chance 
stumbled  blindly  on  till  it  reared  the  beautiful  and  magnifi- 
cent fabric  of  the  Universe ;  till,  in  every  instance,  through- 
out the  whole  extent  of  nature,  it  hit  upon  the  only  possible 
combinations  from  which  such  noble  results  could  proceed, 
and  then  forever  ceased  from  its  blind  and  stumbling  opera- 
tions 1  The  supposition  is  too  extravagant  to  gain  admission, 
for  a  moment,  into  a  sober  and  rational  mind.  Indeed,  the 
whole  hypothesis  of  the  chance  philosophers  is  rather  to  be 
considered  as  an  instance  of  the  strange  vagaries  of  the  hu- 
man imagination,  than  as  a  system  capable,  in  any  degree, 
of  bearing  the  test  of  reason,  or  satisfying  the  mind  of  the 
serious  and  candid  inquirer  after  truth.* 


*  The  ancient  chance  and  atomic  philosophers  were  not  agreed  among- 
selves.     Some  of  them,  as  Epicurus,  supposed  the  atoms,  which,  by  their 


theni- 

itous  concourse,  formed  all  things,  were  inanimated:  otiiers,  as  Democritus,  be- 
lieved them  animated  ;  teaching  a  doctrine  perhaps  essentially  the  same  with 
the  living  organic  particles  of  more  recent  times.  Whence  did  these  atoms  de- 
rive their  annnation  ? 


22  DESIGN. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


The  opinion  that  the  system  of  the  world  has  been  eternal 
cannot  bear  examination ;  and  the  hypothesis  which  ascribes 
the  origin  of  the  universe  to  a  casual  concurrence  of  atoms 
is  utterly  unsatisfactory.  To  arrange  and  organize  matter, 
as  we  see  it  arranged  and  organized  in  the  fabric  of  the  world, 
is  the  work  of  mind  ;  for  in  the  fabric  of  the  world,  we  every 
where  see  plain  indications  of  design  and  contrivance.  But 
where  there  are  design  and  contrivance  there  must  be  intel- 
ligence. The  intelligent  being  may  act  either  mediately  or 
immediately ;  but  still  he  must  exist  and  act.  It  may  be  as- 
sumed as  the  dictate  of  our  nature  that  every  effect  must  have 
an  adequate  cause.  Such  is  the  constitution  of  our  minds, 
that  this  is  equally  the  conviction  of  the  savage  and  the  sage. 
Wherever  we  see  the  fit  combination  of  means  in  order  to 
the  attainment  of  an  end,  we  thence,  invariably  and  without 
hesitation,  infer  the  existence  of  a  designing  cause.* 

The  possibility  of  discovering  design  by  its  effects  has 
been  denied ;  but  there  are  some  things  which,  by  the  very 
constitution  of  our  nature,  we  are  compelled  to  believe.  The 
conviction  is  universal  and  irresistible,  and  can  neither  be 
weakened  by  metaphysical  fallacies,  nor  strengthened  by 
demonstration.  The  man  who  attempts  to  make  me  doubt 
my  own  existence,  or  that  of  matter  around  me,  may  puzzle 
my  understanding  by  the  subtilty  of  his  reasoning,  or  dazzle 
my  imagination  by  the  splendor  of  his  eloquence ;  but  he 
makes  no  impression  on  my  belief  The  same  is  the  case 
with  him  who  tells  me  that  I  can  have  no  conception  of  active 
poA\'er,  or  who  labors  to  persuade  me  that  I  cannot  discover 
design  in  its  effects.  In  spite  of  his  distinctions  and  his 
acuteness,  my  belief  remains  unchanged.  He  no  more  alters 
the  convictions  of  my  mind  than  the  color  of  my  skin.     For 

*  Without  entering  into  any  abstruse  speculations  about  causation,  we  ma}--, 
with  Dr.  Reid,  remark,  that,  m  common  languag-e,  cause  is  a  very  vague  word, 
and  is  appHed  to  any  antecedent  that  is  connected  with  the  eflect.  In  Natural 
Philosophy,  when  we  speak  of  a  cause,  ^\g  mean  a  law  of  nature  from  which  the 
phenomenon  results.  This  is  a  pliysical  cause  ;  it  means  the  law  or  rule  accord- 
ing to  which  the  efficient  cause  acts.  But  in  Mental  Philosophy,  when  we  speak 
of  a  cause,  we  mean  an  efficient  cause  ;  that  is,  a  bein^  with  understanding, 
will,  and  power,  equal  to  the  production  of  the  effect.  Nothing  but  an  efficient 
cause  can  give  existence  to  that  which  had  no  existence  before  ;  and,  in  a  se- 
ries, the  efficieut  cause  must  begin  it,  and  establish  the  law  by  which  it  is  car- 
ried on. 


DESIGN.  23 

by  attending  to  my  own  voluntary  actions,  I  have  a  concep- 
tion of  active  power.  I  am  conscious  of  my  own  volitions, 
and  experience  teaches  me  that  these  volitions  are  followed 
by  corresponding  effects.  Now,  although  I  am  unable  to 
understand  or  explain  the  manner  in  which  mind  acts  upon 
matter,  yet  I  have  all  the  evidence  of  which  the  case  admits, 
or  which  my  nature  requires,  that  my  volitions  and  exertions 
are  the  efficient  cause  of  the  effects  produced.  Wherever  I 
observe  mutual  adaptation,  reciprocal  dependence,  the  rela- 
tion of  parts  to  one  another,  and  to  a  common  end,  there  I 
believe  there  has  been  design.  The  belief  is  invariable,  and 
it  is  certain.  I  am  led  to  it  by  all  my  notions  resulting  from 
consciousness,  perception,  testimony,  and  inference.  Expe- 
rience proves  it  invariably  true. 

Aristippus  was  shipwrecked  on  an  island,  where  he  and  his 
companions  were  apprehensive  of  being  destroyed  by  barba- 
rians, or  torn  to  pieces  by  wild  beasts.  He  perceived  some 
geometrical  figures  roughly  sketched  on  the  shore.  "  Let  us 
take  courage,  my  friends,"  exclaimed  he,  "  for  I  see  the 
vestiges  of  civilized  men  !  "  The  judgment  which  he  formed 
was  instantaneous  and  certain.  He  never  suspected  that 
those  figures  had  been  scratched  by  the  talon  of  the  eagle, 
the  paw  of  the  lion,  or  even  by  the  finger  of  a  savage.  If, 
however,  upon  landing  on  an  unknown  shore,  instead  of  a 
few  figures  roughly  sketched  on  the  sand,  we  were  to  find  a 
geometrical  treatise,  such,  for  instance,  as  the  first  six  books 
of  Euclid,  with  all  the  propositions,  diagrams,  and  demon- 
strations, would  any  one  hesitate,  for  a  single  moment,  to  pro- 
nounce that  this  was  the  work  of  some  civilized  and  intelli- 
gent being?  No  man  capable  of  exercising  reason  would 
pronounce  it  the  work  of  chance.  Would  a  voyager,  land- 
ing on  an  uninhabited  island,  and  finding  a  magnificent  and 
splendid  city,  adorned  with  palaces,  and  temples,  and  towers, 
imagine,  because  he  saw  no  inhabitants,  that  the  city  had 
risen  up  there  without  the  operation  of  an  intelligent  agent? 
No  :  a  native  of  Oriental  climes  might  pronounce  it  the  work 
of  the  genii ;  but  no  person  would  imagine  that  it  had  come 
there  without  a  designing  cause,  a  contriving  mind. 

It  is  by  the  inference  of  design  from  its  effects,  that,  in 
many  instances,  we  form  our  opinions  and  regulate  our  con- 
duct. How  do  we  distinguish  a  man  of  sagacity  from  a 
fool  1  a  person  of  integrity  from  a  villain  ?  Why  do  we  pun- 
ish the  incendiary  and  the  murderer?  It  is  because  our 
opinions  are  formed  and  our  conduct  regulated  by  the  infer- 
ence of  design  from  its  effects.     And  before  we  cease  to 


S4  DESIGN. 

think  in  this  manner,  we  must  divest  ourselves  of  our  nature  ; 
we  must  cease  to  be  men.  This  principle,  which  is  forced 
upon  us  by  the  very  constitution  of  our  nature,  and  which  is 
confirmed  by  daily  experience,  we  must  carry  along  with  us 
when  we  survey  the  universe.  We  cannot  divest  ourselves 
of  it.  If,  therefore,  in  our  examination  of  Nature,  we  per- 
ceive combinations  and  relations  which,  according  to  all  our 
notions,  indicate  design,  then  we  are  irresistibly  led  to  infer 
the  existence  of  a  designing  cause.  This  is  no  wanton  hy- 
pothesis, no  gratuitous  assumption.  It  flows  from  a  princi- 
ple deeply  rooted  in  our  nature,  and  which  influences  many 
of  our  opinions,  and  much  of  our  conduct. 

It  may,  perhaps,  be  said  that  our  knowledge  of  the  design 
of  the  artist  in  any  piece  of  mechanism,  or  of  the  architect 
in  planning  and  building  a  palace  or  a  city,  arises  from  our 
having  seen  other  things  of  the  same  kind,  and  having  been 
informed  of  the  cksign;  but  that  the  universe  is  something  of 
its  own  kind ;  that  it  is  one  only  ;  that  there  is  no  fair  analogy 
between  it  and  any  work  of  man ;  and  tliat,  therefore,  we 
cannot  trace  cksign  in  it.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  the  uni- 
verse is  but  one.  It  consists,  however,  of  many  parts  ;  and 
if,  either  in  the  whole,  or  in  any  of  the  parts,  we  perceive 
those  kinds  of  combinations  and  relations  which,  according 
to  the  constitution  of  our  nature,  and  all  our  observation  and 
experience,  we  consider  as  indicative  of  design,  then  we  are 
as  irresistibly  led  to  infer  the  existence  of  a  designing  cause 
in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other.  And  in  proportion  as  the 
universe,  or  any  part  of  it,  is  superior  to  any  efi'ect  of  human 
contrivance  and  power,  so  the  designing  cause  must,  in  the 
same  proportion  at  least,  be  superior  to  man  in  wisdom  and 
might.  A  watch  is  but  one  ;  yet  it  consists  of  many  different 
parts,  and  plainly  indicates  design  and  contrivance.  And 
though  there  were  only  one  watch  in  the  world,  no  man  in 
the  possession  of  his  reason  would  pronounce  it  a  casual 
production. 

The  distance  between  the  construction  of  any  piece  of 
mechanism,  and  that  of  the  vast  system  of  the  universe,  is,  in- 
deed, immeasurably  great.  This,  however,  does  not  destroy 
the  analogy  ;  but  it  greatly  weakens  the  impression  of  that 
analogy  on  our  minds.  In  comparing  a  mite  with  an  ele- 
phant, we,  in  some  measure,  lose  sight  of  the  comparison 
by  the  immense  disparity  between  the  things  compared. 
This  is  much  more  the  case  in  comparing  the  world  with 
a  piece  of  mechanism.  In  order  to  see  and  feel  the  full 
force  of  the  comparison,  there  must  be  something  like  equali- 


DESIGN.  25 

ty  between  the  things  compared ;  or,  at  least,  we  must  be 
able  to  compute  the  inequality.  For  it  is  only  in  proportion 
as  we  are  able  distinctly  to  see,  and  accurately  to  compute 
the  difference  between  the  things  compared,  that  we  feel  the 
force  of  the  comparison.  But  the  disparity  between  the  uni- 
verse and  the  effects  of  human  ingenuity  and  power  is  in- 
calculable, and  therefore  the  argument  from  analogy  does 
not  make  a  due  impression  on  our  mind. 

We  do  not  pretend  fully  to  understand  the  designs  of  God 
in  his  works;  but  to  argue  that  we  can  know  no  part  of  those 
designs,  because  we  cannot  comprehend  them  in  all  their 
variety  and  extent,  is  attempting  to  draw  a  general  conclu- 
sion from  partial  premises.  Because  we  do  not  fully  under- 
stand the  economy  of  the  comets,  can  it  be  logically  inferred 
that  we  know  nothing  of  the  solar  system,  or  of  the  design 
of  the  sun  I  Will  any  man  assert  that  we  are  ignorant  of 
the  design  of  the  organs  of  sense,  because  we  cannot  explain 
how  the  nerves,  connected  with  different  organs,  produce 
different  sensations?  Such  conclusions,  drawn  from  such 
premises,  are  not  entitled  to  much  consideration.  To  state 
them  plainly  is  a  sufficient  refutation.  The  man  who  denies 
that  it  is  any  part  of  the  design  of  the  sun  to  enlighten,  warm, 
and  fertilize  the  earth ;  or  of  the  eye  to  see,  and  of  the  ear 
to  hear ;  or  who  seriously  maintains  that,  from  the  effects,  we 
cannot  fairly  infer  such  a  design, — is  unquestionably  under 
the  influence  of  very  powerful  prejudices.  In  these  instances 
the  relations  are  obvious;  and  every  unperverted  mind  must 
be  fully  satisfied  that  it  is  the  design  of  the  sun  to  communi- 
cate light  and  heat  to  the  earth — of  the  eye  to  see,  and  of 
the  ear  to  hear.  These  we  may  confidently  assume  as  de- 
signs of  the  Deity  ;  and  may  reason  concerning  the  fitness 
of  the  means  to  accomplish  the  ends,  and,  from  that  fitness, 
may  form  our  estimate  of  the  attributes  of  the  Supreme  In- 
telligence. 

In  inquiring  into  the  designs  of  the  Creator  in  his  works, 
there  is  no  presumption.  Our  inquiries  ought  to  be  conduct- 
ed with  profound  reverence  for  the  Being  who  formed  and 
who  upholds  the  universe;  and,  when  so  conducted,  instead 
of  being  indications  of  impiety  or  audacity,  they  are  expres- 
sions of  admiration  and  homage.  The  essence  of  Deity  is 
not  the  object  of  our  senses;  but  he  exhibits  himself  to  us  in 
his  works,  and  in  these  he  invites  us  to  contemplate  the 
proofs  of  his  existence  and  the  glory  of  his  perfections.  To 
trace  the  hand  of  the  Almighty  in  the  fabric  of  the  universe, 
is  a  suitable  exercise  of  the  noble  faculties  with  which  he 
3 


/CO  DESIGN. 

has  endowed  us :  it  is  a  tribute  of  homage  to  Him  who  made 
us ;  and  must  be  the  means  of  much  improvement  and  hap- 
piness to  ourselves.  "  The  works  of  the  Lord  are  great, 
sought  out  of  all  them  that  have  pleasure  therein."* 

*  The  a  priori  argument  I  have  not  introduced,  because,  to  my  mind,  it  has 
never  appeared  very  satisfactory.  Dr.  Reid  (Intell.  Powers,  p.  314,  4to  ed.) 
says,  "  Sir  Isaac  Newton  thought  that  the  Deity,  by  existing  every  where,  cuid 
at  all  times,  constitutes  time  and  space,  immensity  and  eternity.  This  proba- 
bly suggested  to  his  great  friend  Dr.  Clarke,  what  he  calls  the  argument  a  priori 
for  the  existence  of  an  immense  and  eternal  Being.  Space  and  time,  he  thought, 
are  only  abstract  or  partial  conceptions  of  an  immensity  and  eternity  which 
forces  itself  upon  our  belief.  And  as  immensity  and  eternity  are  not  substances, 
they  must  be  the  attributes  of  a  Being  who  is  necessarily  immense  and  eternal. 
These  are  the  speculations  of  men  of  superior  genius.  But  whether  they  be  as 
solid  as  they  are  sublime,  or  whether  they  be  tiie  wanderings  of  imagination  in 
a  region  beyond  the  limits  of  human  understanding,  I  am  unable  to  determine." 

Professor  Dugald  Stewart,  in  his  Dissertation  on  the  Progress  of  Metaphysical, 
Ethical,  and  Political  Philosophy,  in  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  Part  II.  p. 
65,  says,  •'  How  far  the  peculiar  cast  of  Newton's  genius  qualified  him  for  pros- 
ecuting successfully  the  study  of  mind,  he  has  not  afforded  us  sufficient  data  for 
judging;  but  such  was  the  admiration  with  which  his  transcendent  powers  as  a 
mathematician  and  natural  philosopher  were  universally  regarded,  that  the 
slightest  of  his  hints  on  other  subjects  have  been  eagerly  seized  upon  as  indis- 
putable axioms,  though  sometimes  with  little  other  evidence  in  their  favor  but 
the  supposed  sanction  of  his  authority.  The  part  of  his  works,  however,  which 
chiefly  led  me  to  connect  his  name  with  that  of  Clarke,  is  a  passage  in  the 
Scholium  annexed  to  his  Pnncipia,  which  may  be  considered  as  the  germ  of  the 
celebrated  argument  a  priori  for  the  existence  of  God,  which  is  commonly, 
though  I  apprehend  not  justly,  regarded  as  the  most  important  of  all  Clarke's 
contributions  to  metaphysical  philosophy.  I  shall  quote  the  passage  in  New- 
ton's own  words,  to  the  oracular  conciseness  of  which  no  English  version  can  do 
justice. 

"  '  ^Eternus  est  et  infinitus,  omnipotens  et  omnisciens ;  id  est,  durat  ab  aeter- 
no  in  aeternum,  et  adest  ab  infinito  in  infinitum.  Non  est  eeternitas  et  infinitas, 
sed  a?ternus  et  infinitus  5  non  est  duratio  et  spatium,  sed  durat  et  adest.  Durat 
semper  et  adest  ubique,  el  existendo  semper  et  ubique  durationem  et  spatium 
conslituit.'  Proceeding  on  these  principles,  Dr.  Clarke  argued,  that  as  immen- 
sity and  eternity  (which  force  themselves  irresistibly  on  our  belief  as  necessary 
existencies,  or,  in  other  words,  as  existencies  of  which  the  annihilation  is  impos- 
sible) are  not  S7ibstances,  but  attributes,  the  immense  and  eternal  Bowig,  whose 
attributes  they  are,  must  exist  of  necessity  also.  The  existence  of  God,  there- 
fore, according  to  Clarke,  is  a  truth  that  follows  with  demonstrative  evidence 
from  those  conceptions  of  space  and  time  which  are  inseparable  from  the  hu- 
man mind." 

After  quoting  the  passage  from  Dr.  Reid,  cited  at  the  beginning  of  this  note, 
Mr.  Stewart  proceeds  and  says,  "After  this  candid  acknowledgment  from  Dr. 
Reid,  I  need  not  be  ashamed  to  confess  my  own  doubts  and  difficulties  on  the 
same  ciuestion." 

Dr.  Thomas  BrowTi,  in  his  92d  lecture,  says,  "If  the  world  had  been  without 
any  of  its  present  adaptation  of  parts  to  parts,  only  a  mass  of  matter,  irregular 
in  form,  and  quiescent, — and  if  we  could  conceive  ourselves,  with  all  our  facul- 
ties as  vigorous  as  now,  contemplating  such  an  irregular  and  quiescent  mass, 
without  any  thought  of  the  order  displayed  in  our  own  mental  frame, — I  am  far 
from  contending  that,  in  such  circumstances,  with  nothing  before  us  that  could 
be  considered  as  indicative  of  a  particular  design,  we  should  have  been  led  to 
tlic  conception  of  a  Creator.  On  the  contrary,  I  conceive  the  abstract  argu- 
ments which  have  been  adduced  to  show  ihat  it  is  impossible  for  matter  to  have 
existed  from  eternity, — by  reasonings  on  what  has  been  termed  necessary  exist- 
ence, and  the  incompatibility  of  this  necessary  existence  with  the  qualities  of 
matter,-— to  be  relics  of  the  mere  verbal  logic  of  the  schools,  as  little  capable  of 


DESIGN.  27 

producing'  conviction  as  any  of  the  wildest  and  most  absurd  of  the  technical 
scholastic  reasonings  on  the  properties,  or  supposed  properties,  of  entity  and 
nonentit]j.  Eternal  existence,  the  existence  of  that  which  never  had  a  begin- 
ning, must  always  be  beyond  our  distinct  comprehension,  lohatever  the  eternal 
object  may  be,  material  or  mental, — and  as  much  beyond  our  comprehension 
in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other,  though  it  is  not  impossible  for  us  to  doubt  that 
some  being,  material  or  mental,  must  have  been  eternal,  ifamj  thinor  exists." 

Sir  James  Mackintosh,  in  his  Dissertation  on  the  Progress  of  Ethical  Philoso- 
phy, in  the  seventh  edition  of  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  speaking  of  Dr. 
Clarke,  says,  "  Roused  by  the  prevalence  of  the  doctrines  of  Spinoza  and 
Hobbes,  he  endeavored  to  demonstrate  the  being  and  attributes  of  God,  from 
a  few  axioms  and  definitions,  in  the  manner  of  geometry ;  an  attempt  in  which, 
with  all  his  powers  of  argument,  it  must  be  owned  that  he  is  compelled  some- 
times tacitly  to  assume  what  the  laws  of  reasoning  required  him  to  prove  5  and 
that,  on  the  whole,  his  failure  may  be  regarded  as  a  proof  that  such  a  mode  of 
argument  is  beyond  the  faculties  of  man." 

In  a  note.  Sir  James  adds,  "  This  admirable  person  had  so  much  candor  as 
in  effect  to  own  his  failure,  and  to  recur  to  those  other  arguments  in  support  of 
this  great  truth,  which  have  in  all  ages  satisfied  the  most  elevated  minds.  In 
Proposition  VIII.  (Being  and  Attributes  of  God,  p.  47),  which  affirms  that  the 
first  cause  must  be  '  intelligent'  (where,  as  he  truly  states,  '  lies  the  main  ques- 
tion between  us  and  the  atheists  '),  he  owns,  that  the  proposition  Ccuinot  be  de- 
monstrated strictly  and  properly  a  priori." 

Having  mentioned  these  high  authorities,  I  shall  add  nothing  of  my  own  re- 
specting the  argument  a  priori. 


BOOK  11. 

EVIDENCES    OF    DESIGN    IN    NATURE 


CHAPTER  I. 

GENERAL    OBSERVATIONS. 

We  shall  now  proceed  to  consider  some  of  the  evidences 
of  design  in  the  fabric  of  nature;  and,  instead  of  selecting  a 
few  insulated  examples  from  particular  departments  of  the 
world,  shall  take  a  rapid  but  wide  survey  of  the  universe,  and 
endeavor  to  show  that  evidences  of  design  occur  every  where 
throughout  the  vast  system.  Such  evidences  appear,  not 
merely  in  a  few  thinly-scattered  phenomena  of  a  dubious 
aspect,  pressed  into  the  service,  and  constrained  to  give  a 
reluctant  and  suspicious  testimony,  but  they  abound  in  every 
province  of  nature,  and,  upon  many  occasions,  force  them- 
selves upon  the  notice  even  of  the  careless  observer.  Such 
a  general  survey  is  not  necessary  to  prove  the  being  of  God ; 
but  it  will  serve  to  familiarize  this  great  truth  to  our  imagina- 
tion, and  accustom  us  to  associate  the  existence  and  perfec- 
tions of  Deity  with  the  contemplations  of  his  works.  More- 
over, we  may  often  have  occasion  to  remark  the  indications 
of  wisdom  and  goodness  which  appear  in  every  department 
of  nature  ;  and  the  frequent  recurrence  of  these  indications 
cannot  fail  to  make  a  deep  impression  on  the  mind,  and  to 
fortify  it  against  objections  to  those  attributes  of  the  Creator. 
Before  entering,  however,  upon  this  extensive  survey,  it  is 
proper  to  premise, 

1.  That,  although  we  may  not  understand  every  phenome- 
non, or  be  able  to  point  out  design  in  every  appearance  of 
nature,  yet  this  can  form  no  objection  against  what  we  are 
able  to  explain.  Our  ability  to  prove  the  existence  and  illus- 
trate the  perfections  of  Deity  from  the  fabric  of  the  universe. 


GENERAL    OBSERVATIONS.  29 

will  be  commensurate  with  our  knowledge  of  creation.  We 
may  be  able  to  show  design  in  many  phenomena ;  but  beings 
of  greater  knowledge  may  show  wisdom  and  goodness  in 
many  more,  perhaps  even  in  those  very  instances  which  to 
us  appear  most  perplexing  and  unaccountable.  Hence  we 
may  see  the  folly  of  condemning  what  we  do  not  understand. 
Perceiving  so  many  indications  of  wise  and  benevolent  con- 
trivance every  where  around  us,  we  ought  rather  to  distrust 
our  own  knowledge  than  to  deny  the  existence  of  wisdom 
and  goodness  in  any  particular  instance.  The  celebrated 
Alphonsus  X.,  king  of  Leon  and  Castile,  was  well  acquainted 
with  the  astronomical  doctrines  of  Ptolemy,  but  had  no  con- 
ception of  the  true  principles  of  the  solar  system.  Proud, 
however,  of  his  attainments,  and  misled  by  his  imaginary 
science,  he  is  said  to  have  exclaimed,  that  if  he  had  been  of 
God's  council  he  would  have  instructed  him  better  in  the 
construction  of  the  universe.  What  the  royal  astronomer 
ridiculed  was  not  the  work  of  Deity,  but  the  fantom  created 
by  his  own  ignorance.  His  example  should  operate  as  a 
caution  to  us. 

2.  Although  I  err  in  my  account  of  one  phenomenon,  and 
although  my  argument,  in  so  far  as  it  depends  on  that  erro- 
neous account,  must  fall  to  the  ground,  yet  this  in  no  degree 
invalidates  arguments  founded  on  facts  and  appearances  cor- 
rectly stated.  It  is  not  here  as  in  the  demonstration  of  a  geo- 
metrical theorem,  where,  if  one  link  be  broken,  the  demon- 
stration fails.  In  the  present  case,  the  reasoning  upon  every 
fact,  or  combination  of  facts,  is  separate  and  independent ; 
and,  therefore,  although,  in  any  one  instance,  the  statement 
of  fact  may  be  incorrect,  and  the  argument,  in  so  far  as  it 
depends  on  that  incorrect  statement,  unsound,  yet  other  facts 
and  arguments  founded  on  them  stand  in  full  force.  Every 
fact,  or  every  combination  of  facts,  may  be  considered  inde- 
pendently, in  the  great  mass  of  evidence ;  and  in  proportion 
as  we  bring  forward  appearances  indicative  of  design,  we 
accumulate  arguments  in  proof  of  the  existence  of  a  design- 
ing cause.  If  we  can  show  a  harmonious  combination  of  all 
the  phenomena,  in  order  to  the  construction  of  one  whole, 
then  the  conclusion  which  results  from  the  contemplation  of 
particular  parts  will  appear  with  the  most  attractive  lustre 
and  commanding  majesty. 
3* 


30  THE    HUMAN    EYE. 

CHAPTER  11. 

THE    HUMAN    EYE. 

In  glancing  at  the  evidence  of  design  in  nature,  I  shall 
first  select  a  particular  instance,  and  explain  it  at  considera- 
ble length,  in  order  that  the  force  of  the  evidence  may  be 
more  fully  felt.  The  instance  which  I  select  for  this  pur- 
pose is  the  Human  Eye  [PL  I.  fig.  2,  3,  4] ;  and  in  review- 
ing this  organ,  I  shall  give  a  description  of  it,  which,  though 
not  minute  enough  for  the  anatomist,  may  suffice  for  an 
exhibition  of  its  construction  and  excellence  as  an  optical 
instrument. 

The  Eye^  which  communicates  so  much  beauty  and  viva- 
city to  the  human  countenance,  is  a  small  but  admirable  in- 
strument of  vision  formed  in  the  expansion  of  the  optic  nerve. 
Its  position,  construction,  and  the  provision  made  for  its  ad- 
justment and  preservation,  plainly  indicate  a  designing  cause. 
It  is  placed  in  the  upper  part  of  the  face,  occupying  a  com- 
manding station ;  and,  like  a  sentinel  posted  on  a  hill,  per- 
ceiving, at  a  single  glance,  every  thing  around.  It  is  lodged 
in  a  strong-hold,  or  bony  cavity,  called  its  or-hit ;  and  is  sur- 
rounded by  several  parts,  which  serve  either  to  protect  it 
from  injury,  to  assist  and  facilitate  its  motions,  or  to  supply 
it  with  moisture.  The  optic  nerves  proceed  separately  from 
the  brain  :  they  afterwards  unite ;  then  separate  again,  and 
each  of  them  enters  the  orbit,  on  the  nasal  side,  and  forms 
the  integuments  of  the  eye,  so  that  the  coats  or  tunics  of  the 
eye  are  expansions  of  the  optic  nerve,  or  at  least  membranes 
intimately  adhering  to  it.  The  optic  nerve  has  two  coats, 
one  above  the  other,  enclosing  its  medullary  substance.  The 
exterior  coat  is  named  the  cJura  mater ;  the  interior  the  pia 
mater.  The  outer  coat  of  the  eye,  called  the  sclerotica,  is  a 
continuation  and  expansion  of  the  dura  mater,  and  is  white 
and  opaque,  excepting  the  anterior  part,  called  the  cornea, 
which,  unlike  the  part  behind,  is  transparent,  and  is  fixed  in 
the  sclerotica,  like  the  glass  of  a  watch  in  its  case. 

The  Clwroides,  which  lines  the  sclerotica,  may  be  con- 
sidered as  a  production  of  the  pia  mater.  Its  anterior  part, 
behind  the  cornea,  but  not  close  to  it,  is  of  a  very  different 
structure  from  its  posterior  part ;  and,  on  account  of  the  va- 
riety of  its  colors,  has  been  named  the  L'is.  [PI.  I.  fig.  5,  6.] 
The  Iris,  or  anterior  part  of  the  choroides,  is  an  assemblage 
of  muscular  fibres  ;  some  of  them  tending,  like  the  radii  of  a 


THE    HUMAN    EYE.  31 

circle,  towards  its  centre,  and  others  forming  a  number  of 
concentric  circles  round  the  same  centre.  In  the  middle  of 
the  iris  is  a  perforation  known  by  the  name  of  the  pupil, 
which  is  diminished  by  the  contraction  of  the  circular  fibres 
of  the  iris,  when  a  very  luminous  object  is  presented  to  the 
eye,  and  dilated  by  the  contraction  of  the  radial  fibres,  for 
the  admission  of  a  greater  number  of  rays  in  a  faint  light. 
Even  they  who  do  not  admit  the  fibrous  structure  and  mus- 
cularity of  the  iris,  cannot  deny  its  contractibility,  which  they 
ascribe  to  its  sympathy  with  the  retina. 

At  the  anterior  border  of  the  choroides,  there  is  a  ring  of 
sensible  thickness,  named  the  ciliary  ligament,  from  which 
proceed  numerous  productions  called  ciliary  processes. 
The  posterior  surface  of  the  iris,  the  ciliary  processes,  and 
part  of  the  choroides,  are  spread  over  with  a  black  mucus, 
which  absorbs  the  lateral  rays,  and  contributes  to  distinct 
vision.  The  medullary  portion  of  the  optic  nerve,  in  dila- 
ting, forms  a  white,  and  very  thin  membrane,  or  congeries  of 
nervous  terminations,  applied  upon  the  choroides,  and  named 
the  retina  ;  upon  which,  according  to  the  general  opinion, 
the  object  is  painted.  In  these  coats  or  tunics  are  set  three 
transparent  humors  or  lenses,  of  different  refractive  powers ; 
and  the  whole  forms  the  organ  of  vision  in  the  human  body. 

The  foremost  of  the  humors  is  the  aqueous.  It  is  placed 
immediately  beliind  the  cornea,  and  occupies  the  whole 
space  between  it  and  the  crystalline  humor,  both  before  and 
behind  the  iris.  The  aqueous  humor  has  the  transparency 
of  the  purest  water,  but  it  is  not  altogether  so  liquid.  Its 
specific  gravity  is  rather  greater  than  that  of  water.  It  has 
been  remarked  that,  notwithstanding  the  great  fluidity  of  the 
aqueous  humor,  and  its  exposure  to  the  cold,  it  does  not 
freeze.  Behind  the  aqueous  humor  is  placed  a  double  con- 
vex lens,  having  its  axis  corresponding  with  the  centre  of  the 
pupil.  It  is  somewhat  more  convex  towards  the  circumfer- 
ence of  the  eye  than  in  front.  It  is  called  the  crystalline 
humor,  and  appears  to  be  composed  of  a  great  number  of 
very  thin  laminas,  and  of  extremely  minute  fibres,  very  trans- 
parent, and  closely  united  together.  It  is  tolerably  solid, 
and  both  its  specific  gravity  and  refractive  power  are  greater 
than  those  of  either  of  the  other  two  humors  of  the  eye.  It 
is  attached  to  the  ciliary  ligament,  by  means  of  the  fibres  of 
which  it  can  probably  be  altered  in  a  small  degree  in  position, 
and  perhaps  in  figure  also.  The  crystalline  is  placed  behind 
the  aqueous,  and  in  front  of  the  vitreous  humor,  in  which  last 
it  is  set  like  a  jewel  in  a  ring.     The  vitreous  humor,  situate  at 


32  THE    HUMAN    EYE. 

the  back  part  of  the  socket,  occupies  about  three  fourths  of 
the  globe  of  the  eye.  It  is  of  the  consistence  of  a  jelly,  color- 
less, and  of  great  transparency.  Its  specific  gravity  is  little 
more  than  that  of  the  aqueous  humor;  therefore,  as,  generally 
speaking,  the  refractive  powers  of  different  mediums  are  as 
their  densities,  the  refractive  powers  of  these  two  humors  are 
not  very  different.  Each  of  the  humors  is  contained  within  its 
own  membrane,  which  is  very  delicate,  and  equally  transparent 
with  the  humor  itself     At  the  back  of  the  whole  is  the  retina. 

The  eye,  thus  formed,  is  provided  with  muscles  which 
move  it  in  all  directions,  and  accommodate  its  focal  dis- 
tance to  different  objects,  in  a  degree  of  perfection  incom- 
parably superior  to  the  mechanism  of  the  most  ingeniously 
adjusted  telescope.  By  the  action  of  six  muscles,  it  has  not 
only  the  horizontal  and  vertical  motions,  but  it  can  be  turned 
to  any  oblique  angle  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning.  The 
eyeball  is  much  less  than  the  cavity  in  which  it  is  lodged  ; 
but  the  interval  is  filled  up  with  cellular  substance,  furnish- 
ing a  soft  and  warm  bed  to  the  eye,  and  facilitating  its  mo- 
tions. Besides,  by  means  of  the  lachrymal  gland  [PI.  III. 
fig.  1.]  situate  between  the  ball  of  the  eye  and  the  upper  vault 
of  the  orbit,  on  the  temporal  side,  the  eye  is  supplied  with  a 
perpetual  fountain  for  moistening  and  keeping  it  clean ;  the 
superfluous  moisture  passes  through  a  perforation  into  the 
nostrils,  and  is  drained  off.  The  eyelids,  in  connection  with 
the  bony  cavity  in  which  the  ball  is  lodged,  form  a  soft  and 
strong  covering  to  the  eye,  and  can  be  instantaneously 
put  on  or  withdrawn.  The  eyelashes  serve  as  a  protection 
against  insects  and  minute  bodies  floating  in  the  air  :  they 
also  give  warning  of  approaching  danger,  and  help  to  guard 
against  it ;  and  they  moderate  the  rays  of  light  in  their  pas- 
sage to  the  eye. 

Observe,  then,  what  a  variety  of  circumstances,  and  what 
an  exact  combination  and  nice  adjustment  of  these  circum- 
stances, there  must  be,  in  order  to  distinct  vision ;  and  after 
attentively  considering  the  whole,  nothing,  I  think,  but  blind 
stupidity  or  obstinate  perversity  can  deny  design  and  skilful 
contrivance  in  the  structure  of  the  eye.  How  happens  it 
that  the  cornea  is  transparent,  and  not  opaque  like  the  sclero- 
tica, of  which  it  is  the  continuation?  If  it  were  opaque, 
there  would  be  no  vision  ;  and  I  see  no  way  of  accounting  for 
its  transparency,  but  by  acknowledging  a  wise  designing 
cause.  How  shall  we  account  for  the  transparent  part  being 
placed  in  front,  and  not  towards  the  bottom  of  the  socket? 
Light  does  not  give  transparency  to  the  cornea,  nor  does  the 


THE    HUMAN    EYE.  33 

cornea  give  existence  to  light ;  they  exist  independently  of 
each  other ;  yet,  between  the  two,  there  is  an  unquestionable 
relation,  as  much  so  as  between  the  window  and  the  room, 
the  lire-place  and  the  chimney,  the  lock  and  the  key. 

How  happens  it  that  the  iris  is  of  a  different  structure  from 
the  rest  of  the  choroides,  of  which  it  is  apparently  the  con- 
tinuation ? — that  the  iris  has  the  perforation  called  the  pupil, 
and  that  it  is  not  a  continuous  envelope  like  the  cornea? — • 
that  the  centre  of  the  pupil  corresponds  with  the  axis  of  the 
crystalline  lens  ? — and  that  the  iris  has  a  power  of  contrac- 
tion and  dilatation,  either  lessening  or  enlarging  the  pupil  ac- 
cording to  circumstances?  A  change  in  any  of  those  con- 
ditions would  be  fatal  or  highly  injurious  to  vision.  The 
light  does  not  create  the  pupil,  yet  the  pupil  is  formed  for  the 
admission  of  light.  Light  does  not  confer  on  the  iris  the 
power  of  contraction  or  dilatation  ;  yet  the  pupil  has  the  power 
of  adjusting  itself  to  the  quantity  of  light.  If  it  be  alleged 
that  the  light  irritates  the  retina,  and  by  that  means  occasions 
the  contraction,  still  we  may  inquire,  Who  so  organized  the 
pupil  that  it  should  be  affected  in  such  a  manner  by  the  ac- 
tion of  light?  who  contrived  the  mechanism  by  which  the 
changes  in  the  size  of  the  pupil  are  affected?  How  shall 
we  account  for  the  ciliary  ligament  and  its  processes,  and  the 
four  straight  muscles,  but  by  resorting  to  a  wise  designing 
cause,  which  has  in  this  way  provided  for  the  adjustment  of 
the  crystalline  lens,  and  for  rendering  the  cornea  more  or  less 
prominent?  [PI.  I.  fig.  7.]  Who  provided  the  retina,  like  a 
fine  white  canvass,  to  receive  the  picture  ?  How  shall  we 
account  for  lenses  of  different  refractive  powers  to  correct 
the  chromatic  aberration?  Light  did  not  create  these  several 
lenses,  for  they  were  created  ere  light  shone  upon  them;  nor 
did  these  lenses  establish  the  law  by  which  rays  of  light  are 
refracted  from  the  straight  line  in  passing  obliquely  through 
mediums  of  different  densities,  and  by  which  some  of  the 
rays  of  the  solar  beam  are  more  refrangible  than  others ;  yet 
the  lenses  of  the  eye  are  accurately  adapted  to  the  optical  fact 
or  law.  How  happens  it  that  the  lenses  are  so  exactly  ad- 
justed that  the  rays  form  a  distinct  picture  on  the  retina? 
If  the  configuration  or  refractive  powers  of  the  lenses  had 
been  such  as  to  bring  the  rays  to  a  focus  sooner,  or  if  the 
retina  had  been  placed  more  forward,  or  at  the  smallest  dis- 
tance farther  back  in  the  socket ;  in  any  of  these  cases,  vision 
would  have  been  indistinct.  But  the  place  of  the  retina  is 
exactly  adjusted  to  the  focal  distance  of  the  lenses. 

By  fixing  a  lens  in  a  hole  of  the  window-shutter  of  a  dark- 


34  THE    HUMAN    EYE. 

ened  room,  we  see  an  inverted  picture  of  external  objects, 
formed  on  a  white  sheet  of  paper,  behind  the  lens.  But,  in 
order  to  have  the  picture  distinct,  we  must  move  the  paper 
backwards  and  forwards  till  we  find  the  exact  focal  distance. 
The  retina,  which  corresponds  to  the  sheet  of  paper,  is  placed 
exactly  at  the  due  distance. 

The  eye  is  convex,  and  not  a  plane.  If  it  had  been  a  plane, 
the  field  of  vision  must  have  been  extremely  limited.  But 
the  most  advantageous  of  all  forms  is  adopted  ;  and  I  know 
of  no  rational  way  of  accounting  for  this,  but  by  having  re- 
course to  a  designing  cause. 

But  this  is  not  all.  In  diflferent  species  of  animals,  there 
is  a  striking  and  beautiful  adaptation  of  parts  of  the  eye  to 
the  peculiarities  of  each,  in  respect  to  modes  of  living  and 
procuring  their  sustenance.  Birds,  for  example,  in  general, 
procure  their  food  by  means  of  their  beak  ■  hence,  from  the 
nearness  with  which  their  food  is  brought  to  the  eye,  they 
need  the  power  of  seeing  distinctly  very  near  objects.  Again, 
from  their  great  elevation  as  well  as  velocity  of  flight,  the 
power  of  seeing  at  great  distances,  and  with  distinctness,  is 
also  necessary.  There  are  accordingly  two  peculiarities  in 
the  eyes  of  birds,  by  which  distinct  vision  in  these  opposite 
circumstances  is  eflfected.  The  one  is  a  bony,  yet,  general- 
ly, a  flexible  hoop  [PL  II.  fig.  1,  2.],  surrounding  the  broadest 
part  of  the  eye,  which,  confining  the  action  of  the  muscles  to 
that  part,  increases  the  effect  of  their  lateral  pressure  upon 
the  orb,  by  which  pressure  its  axis  is  elongated,  and  thus 
very  near  objects  are  plainly  seen.  The  other  peculiarity  is, 
an  additional  muscle,  called  the  marsiipium  [PI.  II,  fig.  3, 
4,  6.],  for  the  purpose  of  drawing  back  the  crystalline  lens, 
as  occasion  requires,  to  fit  the  eye  for  the  perception  of  dis- 
tant objects.  By  these  means,  the  eyes  of  birds  are  adjusted 
to  near  and  remote  objects  far  more  readily  than  those  of 
other  animals. 

The  eyes  of  fishes,  also,  exhibit  peculiarities  of  structure 
adapted  to  their  state  and  element.  In  the  eyes  of  these  an- 
imals, the  crystalline  lens  is  perfectly  spherical ;  thus  adapt- 
ed only  to  near  objects  [PL  I.  fig.  1.],  their  indolent  habits 
requiring  this  peculiar  adjustment.  The  muscular  conforma- 
tion of  the  eye  is  calculated  only  for  flattening  it.  The  iris  of 
fishes  does  not  contract,  it  being  unnecessary  from  the  dimin- 
ished quantity  of  light  in  the  element  in  which  they  live. 

In  the  Eel  [PL  II.  fig.  5.],  which  inhabits  the  bottom  of 
ponds,  there  is  placed,  a  little  distance  above  the  eye,  a  horny, 
transparent  covering,  which  effectually  protects  this  delicate 


THE    HUMAN    EYE.  35 

organ  from  injury  from  the  sand  and  gravel  in  which  it  is 
often  found. 

Thus,  in  comparing  the  eyes  of  different  animals,  we  see 
but  one  general  design,  and  yet  that  plan  benevolently  vary- 
ing with  the  exigences  of  state  and  habits.  How  striking,  in 
all  this,  is  the  evidence  of  design  ! 

In  order,  however,  to  have  a  fuller  view  of  the  subject,  we 
shall  compare  the  eye,  in  some  particulars,  with  a  telescope, 
and  give  a  more  copious  illustration  of  some  things  already 
mentioned. 

I.  Let  us  consider  the  eye  as  an  achromatic  instrument. 
Light  moves  in  straight  lines  ;  but  in  passing  obliquely  out 
of  one  medium  into  another  of  different  density,  it  is  refract- 
ed towards  the  perpendicular  in  passing  into  a  denser  medi- 
um, and  from  it  in  passing  into  a  medium  more  rare.  Be- 
sides, the  white  light  issuing  from  the  sun  is  not  a  homoge- 
neous fluid,  but  consists  of  several  differently-colored  rays  ; 
and  these  rays  are  not  equally  refrangible,  the  red  being  the 
least  refrangible,  and  the  violet  the  most  so.  Unless,  howev- 
er, these  refractions  be  corrected,  there  cannot  be  distinct 
and  colorless  vision.  Such  is  the  fact  in  nature.  How, 
then,  is  the  matter  managed  in  the  eye  ?  The  refractions 
are  corrected  by  lenses  of  different  refractive  powers,  so  that 
all  the  rays  meet  in  a  focus  on  the  retina,  and  there  delineate 
a  distinct  and  achromatic  image  of  the  object  from  which  the 
rays  proceed.  How  is  the  difficulty  managed  in  the  tele- 
scope ?  This  was  long  a  desideratum  in  natural  science,  and 
exercised  the  genius  and  industry  of  the  most  distinguished 
philosophers. 

The  telescope,  by  the  prismatic  action  of  the  lenses  of 
which  it  was  composed,  gave  the  object  a  colored  appearance 
about  the  edges,  and  consequently  presented  an  indistinct 
image.  This  was  a  great  defect ;  and  it  was  of  much  impor- 
tance to  remedy  it.  The  celebrated  Mr.  James  Gregory* 
perceived  that  the  eye  had  the  same  difficulty  to  encounter. 
How,  he  asked,  is  it  surmounted  there?  He  perceived  that 
this  was  accomplished  by  a  combination  of  lenses  of  different 
refractive  powers.  Hence  that  ingenious  philosopher  was 
led  to  throw  out  a  hint  concerning  the  construction  of  what 
has  since  been  called  the  achromatic  telescope.  The  sub- 
ject employed  the  great  powers  of  Newton,  and  the  vigorous 

*  A  Scotch  mathematician,  born  and  educated  in  Aberdeen.  He  was  the  in- 
ventor of  the  reflectinjs;-  or  catoptric  telescope,  and  the  burning-  concave  mirror. 
He  had  the  honor  of  disputing,  but  on  amicable  terms,  with  Sir  Isaac  Newton, 
on  the  comparative  excellence  of  the  dioptric  and  catoptric  telescope.  He  died 
at  the  age  of  36,  in  1675. 


36 


THE    HUMAN    EYE. 


mind  of  Euler,*  and  the  execution  of  the  plan  has  conferred 
a  lasting  celebrity  on  the  name  of  DoUond.t  Here,  then,  we 
find  Gregory,  Newton,  Euler,  Dollond,  names  of  high  distinc- 
tion (and  many  more  might  be  mentioned),  turning  their 
minds  to  the  formation  of  the  achromatic  telescope,  acknowl- 
edging the  structure  of  the  eye  to  be  their  guide,  and  yet 
employing  much  ingenuity,  and  performing  many  experi- 
ments, ere  the  last  of  them  happily  succeeded  in  accomplish- 
ing the  object  in  view.  Now,  the  cases  under  consideration 
are  precisely  parallel :  the  difficulty  to  be  surmounted  is  the 
same.  Shall  we,  then,  admit  design  and  contrivance  in  the 
one  case,  and  deny  them  in  the  other  ?  Shall  we  admit  that 
Gregory,  Newton,  Euler,  and  Dollond,  were  designnig  and 
contriving  beings,  in  their  schemes  and  eiforts  to  construct 
an  achromatic  telescope  :  and  yet  contend  that  the  eye,  which 
was  their  model,  was  formed  without  design  and  contrivance  ? 
Shall  we  admit  design  and  contrivance  in  the  imitation,  and 
yet  deny  them  in  the  pattern  1  This  were  absurd  in  the  ex- 
treme. In  the  structure  of  the  eye,  design  and  contrivance 
are  obvious,  and  that  organ  could  not  have  been  formed  but 
by  a  designing  and  contriving  Being. 

II,  In  using  a  telescope, — for  instance,  a  three  feet  refractor, 
— if  we  wish  to  try  the  powers  of  the  instrument  in  reading  a 
book,  we  may  have  distinct  vision  at  the  distance  of  twenty  or 
twenty-five  yards.  But,  if  we  turn  the  telescope,  in  the  same 
state  in  which  we  have  been  reading  the  book,  upon  an  ob- 
ject a  mile  or  two  distant,  we  see  nothing.  In  order  to  have 
distinct  vision,  we  must,  either  by  managing  the  tube  with 
our  hand,  or  by  the  action  of  a  screw,  adjust  the  instrument 
to  the  new  distance.  In  what  way  soever  we  perform  the 
operation,  it  requires  time   and  observation  to  find  the  focus. 

But  the  eye  adjusts  itself  in  a  moment,  whether  the  object 
which  we  look  at  be  six  inches  from  it,  or  six  thousand  times 
that  distance.  Now,  is  there  design  and  contrivance  in 
forming  the  adjusting  screws  of  the  telescope  to  fit  it  to  the 
focal  distance  ?  No  man  in  his  senses  denies  it.  How, 
then,  can  any  man  in  his  senses  deny  design  and  contrivance 
in  the  mechanism  of  the  eye,  by  which  the  same  end  is  ac- 
complished ;  and  not  only  accomplished,  but  accomplished 
in  a  far  more  easy  and  expeditious  manner  than  in  the  tel- 
escope ?     For  no  degree  of  practice  or  dexterity  in  the  use 

*^  A  French  mathematician,  born  at  Basil,  and  died  at  Berlin,  1783,  set.  7G. 
He  was  a  man  of  the  most  astonishing  powers  of  mind,  and  at  the  same  time  be- 
loved for  his  many  social  virtues,  and  revered  for  his  piety. 

+  A  London  optician.  To  him  belongs  the  honor  of  havmg  invented  ihe 
achromatic  telescope. 


THE    HUMAN    EYE.  37 

of  the  instrument  will  enable  us  to  adjust  its  focus  to  differ- 
ent distances  with  the  same  ease  and  quickness  as  we  do  in 
the  eye.  If  design  and  contrivance  be  admitted  in  the  one 
case,  they  cannot  be  denied  in  the  other,  but  by  obstinate 
and  irrational  perversity. 

III.  The  form  of  the  eye  indicates  a  wise  designing 
cause.  It  is  of  a  spherical  figure  ;  and  by  this  figure  several 
important  ends  are  answered  far  better  than  they  could  have 
been  by  any  other.  It  affords  the  most  convenient  lodgment 
for  the  humors  of  the  eye,  and  gives  the  largest  field  of  vision. 
If  the  front  of  the  eye  had  been  a  flat  surface,  there  could 
have  been  no  distinct  vision,  because  all  the  parts  of  it  could 
not  have  been  at  the  due  focal  distance  from  the  lenses  :  some 
parts  must  have  been  too  near,  or  some  too  far  off.  Besides, 
it  is  obvious  that  the  spherical  figure  of  the  eye  is  best  adapt- 
ed for  motion  in  all  directions.  We  may  further  remark, 
that  the  optic  nerve  enters  the  eye,  not  at  the  bottom  of  the 
socket,  but  on  the  nasal  side  of  it.  This  contributes  to  dis- 
tinct vision,  and  may  fairly  be  considered  as  an  evidence 
of  design. 

IV.  The  eye  occupies  a  most  commanding  position,  and 
surveys  with  ease  every  thing  around.  It  could  have  been 
stationed  in  no  other  part  of  the  body  with  equal  advantage. 
If  it  had  been  placed  in  the  occiput,  or  back  part  of  the  head, 
the  form  and  articulation  of  the  arms  and  legs  would  not 
have  harmonized  with  it ;  but,  at  present,  they  are  fitted  for 
acting  in  the  direction  in  which  the  eye  sees.  The  eyes  and 
the  limbs  are  admirably  adapted  to  each  other.  They  exhibit 
a  striking  instance  of  relation  and  prospective  contrivance. 
Indeed,  relation  and  prospective  contrivance  meet  us  in  al- 
most every  department  of  nature,  whether  we  attend  to  the 
structure  of  animals  or  to  the  combinations  and  adjustments 
of  the  different  parts  of  the  universe.  Thus  the  eye  occupies 
its  due  place  in  the  body,  as  part  of  one  harmonious  whole, 
and  all  the  members  are  fitted  for  cooperating  with  it.  It  is 
stationed  near  the  brain,  and  communicates  with  that  great 
source  of  sensation  and  motion  by  means  of  the  optic  nerve. 

V.  We  have  an  evidence,  not  of  design  only,  but  of  good- 
ness also,  in  the  number  of  the  eyes.  They  are  two.  In 
this  way  we  can  take  in  a  larger  angle  than  if  we  had  one 
eye  only;  and  although  one  be  injured,  we  are  not  entirely 
deprived  of  the  use  of  this  cheering  organ.  And  we  may 
observe  the  consummate  skill  of  Him  who  formed  the  eye,  in 
this  circumstance,  that,  although  an  object  be  seen  with  both 
eyes,  yet  it  appears  single,  perhaps  because  painted  on  the 

4 


38  THE    HUMAN    EYE. 

corresponding  part  of  each  retina,  or  perhaps  because  tlie 
nerves  unite ;  but  in  what  manner  soever  we  account  for  it, 
the  fact  is  certain  ;  and  the  argument  resuhing  from  it  is  not 
affected  by  any  doubts  respecting  the  manner  in  which  it  is 
accomplished.  AUhough  the  picture  of  the  object  is  invert- 
ed on  the  retina,  yet  we  see  objects  erect ;  and  this,  I  ap- 
prehend, happens  by  a  law  of  our  nature  antecedent  to  expe- 
rience. The  rays  of  light  pass  to  the  retina  on  optical  prin- 
ciples ;  but  we  know  not  in  what  way  impressions  are  made 
on  the  mind.  It  may  be  added,  that  the  eyeball  is  of  a 
commodious  size,  serving  the  purposes  of  distinct  vision, 
and  yet  not  exposing  a  large  surface  to  the  injuries  to  which 
such  a  delicate  organ  is  liable.  All  the  objects  in  the  large 
field  which  the  eye  takes  in  are  accurately  represented  on 
the  retina.  The  whole  scenery  of  some  miles  is  painted  on 
a  canvass  of  an  inch  diameter ;  and  yet  how  distinct  and 
correct  is  the  picture  !  This  circumstance  bears  a  strong 
testimony,  not  only  to  the  existence,  but  also  to  the  wisdom 
and  goodness,  of  the  Creator. 

VI.  The  motions  of  the  eye  cannot  fail  to  attract  the  notice 
of  every  attentive  observer  and  inquirer.  These  motions  are 
performed  by  the  action  of  six  muscles,  four  of  v.hich  are 
straight,  and  two  obhque.  [PI.  V.]  The  straight  muscles 
elevate  or  depress  the  eye,  turn  it  in  towards  the  nose,  or  out 
towards  the  temple ;  the  oblique  muscles  perform  the  more 
complex  motions.  The  origin  and  insertion  of  those  muscles, 
and  their  comparative  strength,  are  fitted  with  the  most  con- 
summate mechanical  skill  for  turning  the  eye  in  all  direc- 
tions, with  the  utmost  ease  and  rapidity  ;  and  if  the  nice 
adaptation  of  means  to  the  accomplishment  of  an  end  be  a 
proof  of  design,  the  muscles  of  the  eye  demonstrate  the  ex- 
istence of  a  designing  cause. 

VII.  Nor  should  we  pass  unnoticed  that  most  delicate  and 
exquisite  contrivance,  the  nictitating  membrane,  discovered 
in  the  eyes  of  birds,  and  of  many  quadrupeds.  [PL  III.  fig. 
2,  3,  4,  5.]  Its  function  is  to  moisten  the  eye,  to  protect  it 
from  external  injuries,  and  yet  not  entirely  to  exclude  the 
light  when  covering  the  pupil.  How  compact  its  folds,  as  it 
lies  unfelt  in  the  outer  angle  of  the  eye,  and  capable,  in  an 
instant,  of  being  spread  out !  Its  own  elasticity — a  peculiar- 
ity of  this  muscle — forces  it  into  its  hiding-place  as  soon  as 
the  force  is  removed  which  expands  it.  This  membrane  is 
connected  with  a  muscle  in  the  back  part  of  the  eye,  by  a 
very  small  tendon,  so  as  not  to  obstruct  the  light  sensibly, 
even  when  it  passes  over  the  pupil.    By  the  voluntary  contrac- 


THE    HUMAN    EYE.  •  39 

tion  of  this  muscle  the  membrane  is  drawn  over  the  front  of 
the  eye ;  and  when  this  contraction  ceases,  the  elasticity 
alone  of  the  membrane  brings  it  back  again  to  its  usual 
position. 

The  muscle  which  is  attached  to  the  nictitating  membrane 
is  connected  with  a  very  singular  piece  of  mechanism.  It 
passes  through  a  loop  formed  by  another  muscle,  so  as  to  pos- 
sess all  the  mechanical  convenience  of  the  movable  pulley, 
at  the  same  time  allowing  a  greater  length  to  the  muscle  than 
could  be  admitted  into  the  space  allotted  to  it  in  the  back 
part  of  the  eye.   [PL  V.] 

From  this  cursory  view  of  the  eye,  it  obviously  appears  to 
be  an  organ  of  most  exquisite  workmanship.  Its  numerous 
parts  are  adapted  to  each  other  with  the  most  skilful  con- 
trivance and  minute  precision,  and  the  whole  serves  the  no- 
blest and  most  beneficial  purposes.  Take  the  eye  altogether, 
— its  position  ;  its  ingenious  and  accurate  construction  as  an 
instrument  of  vision  ;  its  instantaneous  adjustment  of  itself  to 
different  distances  ;  its  capacity  of  accommodating  itself  to  dif- 
ferent degrees  of  light ;  the  ease,  rapidity,  and  variety  of  its 
motions ;  and  the  provision  made  for  keeping  it  clean  and 
safe, — and  it  plainly  demonstrates  the  existence  of  an  intelli- 
gent first  cause.  I  hesitate  not  to  affirm,  that,  although  there 
were  not  another  mark  of  design  in  the  universe,  yet  the  ap- 
pearance of  even  a  single  eye  would  be  an  irrefragable  evi- 
dence of  a  designing  cause ;  for  nothing  that  we  either  see 
or  know ;  nothing  in  our  own  experience,  or  in  the  authenti- 
cated testimony  of  others  ;  nothing  resulting  from  conscious- 
ness, perception,  or  reasoning,  gives  us  the  least  ground  for 
believing  that  even  a  single  eye  could  be  formed  in  millions 
of  ages,  by  any  casual  combinations  of  matter.  Every  eye, 
then,  bears  a  strong  testimony  to  the  existence  of  a  wise 
designing  cause. 

But  supposing  that  one  eye  might  have  been  produced  by 
casual  combinations,  how  shall  we  account  for  the  appear- 
ance of  a  second?  There  is  just  as  much  difficulty  in  ac- 
counting for  the  second  as  for  the  first,  and  as  much  difficul- 
ty in  accounting  for  the  third  as  for  the  second,  and  so  on 
/or  every  eye  that  is  in  the  universe ;  for  the  existence  of  one 
eye  is  neither  a  necessary  nor  a  physical  cause  of  the  exist- 
ence of  another,  and  it  is  not  in  the  nature  of  chance  to  es- 
tablish a  series.  There  are,  then,  as  many  distinct  witnesses 
of  the  existence  of  an  intelligent  first  cause  as  there  are 
eyes  in  the  world.  And  let  me  add,  that  it  is  a  most  unphi- 
losophical  subterfuge  to  allege  that  one  being  with  eyes  has 


40  THE    HUMAN    EYE. 

produced  another  being  with  eyes,  and  that  the  series  has 
gone  on  from  eternity.  This  can  be  considered  only  as  an 
acknowledgment,  on  the  part  of  the  atheist,  that  he  knows 
nothing  of  the  matter,  and  as  a  silly  attempt  to  plunge  into 
darkness  and  conceal  himself  from  pursuit.  But,  go  where 
he  will,  he  cannot  escape  from  the  difficulty.  Every  step 
that  he  retires,  it  still  presses  upon  him.  It  pursues  him 
through  eternity,  and  every  moment  treads  on  his  heels,  with 
the  same  force  as  in  the  first  instance.  Still  a  voice  sounds 
in  his  ear,  "  Here  is  design — where  is  the  designing  cause  1 
Here  is  contrivance — where  is  the  contriver  1  Point  out  the 
planning  mind;  show  the  hand  that  with  such  dexterity  has 
adapted  means  to  the  attainment  of  an  end."  Go  where  he 
will,  he  has  not  accounted  for  the  first  eye ;  he  has  not  ac- 
counted either  for  the  origin  or  continuation  of  the  series ; 
and  in  no  way  can  they  be  accounted  for,  but  by  the  admis- 
sion of  a  powerful,  wise  and  good  first  cause. 

We  give  much  credit  to  the  artist  who  makes  a  few  good 
instruments.  The  fame  of  Dollond,  as  an  optician,  is  high, 
and  not  undeservedly  so ;  although  causes  over  which  he  had 
no  control  contributed  to  aid  his  genius  and  exalt  his  fame ; 
for  we  are  told  that  the  glass  employed  by  him  in  the  con- 
struction of  his  best  telescopes  was  a  fortunate  treasure,  all 
of  one  melting.  But  what  should  we  have  thought  of  his 
genius  and  art,  if  he  had  made  telescopes  which  produced 
other  telescopes,  of  undiminished  excellence,  through  an  un- 
limited series?  We  should  have  pronounced  them  above  all 
encomium.  What,  then,  shall  we  say  of  Him  who  formed 
the  eye,  and  established  the  law  by  which  a  vast  succession 
of  eyes  is  generated  ?  Must  not  He  be  a  designing  Being  ? 
Must  He  not  be  unspeakably  powerful,  wise,  and  good  ?  If 
I  were  brought  into  a  court,  before  an  enlightened  jury, 
where  I  should  lose  my  cause  unless  I  could  adduce  some 
plain  mark  of  intelligence  and  design  in  the  works  of  nature, 
I  should  boldly  contend,  after  bringing  forward  the  human 
eye,  with  all  its  apparatus,  that  I  had  made  good  my  cause, 
and  should  confidently  expect  a  verdict  in  my  favor ;  and 
such  a  verdict  any  jury  competent  to  decide  upon  the  sub- 
ject would  assuredly  return. 

How  the  eye  conveys  sensation  to  the  mind,  I  cannot  tell. 
If  in  this  there  be  mechanism,  it  is  such  a  mechanism  as 
eludes  our  notice  and  defies  our  investigation.  All  sensa- 
tion is  conveyed  to  the  mind  by  an  unknown  influence  of 
the  nerves.  If  the  optic,  or  any  other  nerve  distributed  to 
an  organ  of  sensation,  be  cut  or  rendered  paralytic,  the  ani- 


THE    HUMAN    EAR.  41 

mal  instantly  loses  that  particular  sense.  The  fact  is  fully 
established  by  observation  and  experiment.  But  how  the 
nerves,  which  are  perfectly  similar  in  every  part  of  the  body, 
should  convey  to  the  mind  feelings  so  different,  when  dis- 
tributed over  the  eye,  the  ear,  the  tongue,  and  the  nose,  is 
what  we  can  neither  understand  nor  explain.  Here  reason 
and  philosophy  are  set  at  defiance.  Indeed,  in  every  thing 
around  us,  we  may  proceed  a  certain  length  with  success  in 
our  inquiries ;  but  we  soon  reach  a  limit  which  neither  our 
industry  nor  ingenuity  can  pass.  We  perceive  an  end  ac- 
complished ;  but  lioiv,  we  are  often  unable  fully  to  explain. 
Some  parts  of  the  process  elude  our  utmost  penetration,  and 
on  those  parts  we  can  pass  no  judgment.  But  a  good  effect 
is  produced.  The  means,  so  far  as  we  can  trace  them,  are 
admirably  adapted  to  the  end.  In  such  circumstances,  it  is 
truly  characteristic  of  a  fool  to  condemn  the  whole,  because 
he  can  understand  and  explain  a  part  only  ;  or  to  deny  design, 
because  he  cannot  fully  trace  the  mechanism  throughout  the 
whole  process. 


The  organ  of  hearing  is  no  less  strikingly,  and  probably 
no  less  mechanically,  adapted  to  its  office  than  the  eye.  It 
consists  of  an  external  ear  (the  concha),  contrived  like  an 
ear-trumpet,  to  collect  the  pulsations  of  sonorous  bodies.  [PI. 
IV.  fig.  1.]  In  larger  animals,  there  is  the  power  of  moving 
the  axis  of  the  external  ear  towards  the  direction  of  the  sound. 
From  the  concha  proceeds  a  tube,  across  which,  within  the 
head,  there  is  drawn  a  very  thin,  elastic  membrane,  called  that 
of  the  tympanum,  or  drum  of  the  ear.  Connecting  the  drum 
with  the  interior  channels  and  recesses  of  the  skull,  is  a  chain 
of  curious  and  delicate  bones.  [PI.  IV.  fig  2.]  These  recesses 
are  spiral  in  form,  and  resemble  wind  instruments  of  music. 
[Fig.  3.]  From  the  tube  within  the  membrane  of  the  tym- 
panum proceeds  the  eustachian  tube,  which  enters  the  back 
part  of  the  mouth.  The  object  of  this  is,  undoubtedly,  to 
supply  the  inner  ear  with  air,  so  as  to  save  the  drum  from 
injury  from  the  external  pressure.  Here,  then,  is  evident 
wisdom  and  design.  Aerial  pulsations,  concentrated  by  the 
involutions  of  the  concha,  vibrate  the  membrane  of  the  tym- 
panum. This  acts  upon  the  chain  of  bones  before  mention- 
ed, and  these  convey  to  the  brain  the  sensation  of  sound. 

The  texture  of  the  membrane  of  the  tympanum  is  so  ex- 
tremely delicate  that  it  can  be  discovered  only  in  very  large 
animals.  That  of  the  Elephant  has  its  muscles  radiating 
4* 


42  GENERAL   VIEW 

from  the  centre,  and  which  is  probably  the  case  with  that  of 
all  animals.  This  seems  to  be  done  in  order  to  bring  it  in 
unison  with  different  sounds.  [PI.  IV.  fig.  4.]  This  wonder- 
ful adaptation  to  the  purpose  evidently  designed,  is  worthy 
our  high  admiration. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

GENERAL    VIEW    OF    THE    HUMAN    BODY. 

We  might  now  proceed  to  the  organs  of  the  other  senses, 
and  show  that  in  them  there  is  a  wise  adaptation  of  means  to 
the  attainment  of  beneficial  ends ;  and  that  design  plainly  ap- 
pears in  the  senses  of  smelling,  tasting,  and  feeling.  We 
might  also  consider  the  different  members  of  the  body  ;  as 
the  hand,  which  Aristotle  pronounced  the  "organ  of  or- 
gans." Its  excellence  depends  in  no  small  degree  on  the 
position,  strength,  and  action  of  the  thumb,  which  can  be 
brought  into  a  state  of  opposition  to  the  fingers,  and  hence  is 
of  great  use  in  laying  hold  of  bodies.  [PL  VI.]  We  might 
also  show  that  the  foot  is  well  fitted  for  the  support  and  pro- 
gression of  the  body,  and  exhibits  a  noble  display  of  benign 
intention  and  skilful  contrivance.  But  instead  of  entering 
on  such  an  extensive  field,  we  shall  merely  take  a  general 
view  of  the  human  body. 

The  bones,  amounting,  in  a  full-grown  person,  to  about 
two  hundred  and  forty,  constitute  the  frame  of  the  machine ; 
and  in  order  to  retain  them  in  their  places,  and  enable  them 
to  perform  their  several  functions,  they  are  strongly  and  in- 
geniously bound  together  by  elastic  ligaments,  membranes, 
or  muscles,  according  to  the  several  situations  and  uses  of 
the  parts.  Some  of  the  joints  have  a  free,  easy,  and  obvious 
motion ;  while  that  of  others  is  less  evident.  In  the  joints, 
the  articulating  surfaces,  being  exposed  to  friction,  are  lined 
with  a  smooth,  elastic  substance,  named  cartilage,  which  is 
lubricated  with  synovia,  as  the  wheels  of  machinery  are  with 
oil.  Now,  if  the  oiling  of  the  axles  of  machinery  be  the  ef- 
fect of  design,  we  think  it  unreasonable  to  deny  design  in  the 
lubrication  of  the  joints. 

The  articulations  of  the  several  joints  are  very  different, 
and,  in  every  instance,  are  happily  suited  to  their  places  and 
purposes.  Let  us,  for  a  moment,  glance  at  the  spine,  [PI. 
VIII.]    How  different  is  its  formation  from  that  of  the  thigh 


OF    THE    HUMAN    BODY.  43 

bone,  and  its  articulations  from  that  of  the  hip,  knee,  or  an- 
kle joint!  [PI.  VII.]  And  is  not  design,  are  not  wisdom 
and  goodness,  obvious  in  the  structure  of  each,  and  in  the 
difference  between  them  ?  Had  the  spine  been  formed  of  a 
single  bone,  like  the  thigh,  it  would  have  been  much  more 
easily  fractured  than  at  present,  and  utterly  incapable  of  in- 
curvation. Had  it  consisted  of  only  two  or  three  bones, 
articulated  like  the  hip  or  like  the  knee  joint,  the  spinal  mar- 
row would  have  been  bruised  at  every  joint,  and  the  motion 
could  not  have  been  so  free,  nor  the  pillar  so  strong  as  it  is. 
The  spine  consists  of  twenty-four  pieces,  called  vertchrcc^ 
with  cavities  and  protuberances  for  locking  into  each  other, 
so  as  to  prevent  luxation,  and  yet  provide  for  the  ilexion  of 
the  body.  The  spinal  marrow,  which  is  of  essential  impor- 
tance to  life,  is  lodged  in  the  cavity  secure  from  injury ;  and 
corresponding  notches  in  the  vertebrae  leave  a  passage  for  the 
entrance  of  the  blood-vessels,  and  for  the  departure  of  the 
nerves,  which  proceed  from  the  spinal  marrow  to  the  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  body. 

This  bony  column,  which  thus  affords  a  canal  through 
which  the  spinal  marrow,  the  production  of  the  brain,  pro- 
ceeds in  security  towards  the  extremities,  also  supports  the 
head  [PI.  IX.],  where  the  brain,  the  throne  of  sensation, 
motion,  and  intellect,  is  lodged  in  the  cranium,  as  in  a  for- 
tress skilfully  and  artificially  constructed;  and  the  organs  of 
seeing,  hearing,  smelling,  and  tasting,  are  placed  like  so 
many  watchmen  on  the  walls,  while  the  sense  of  feeling  is 
diffused  over  the  whole  body.  The  spine  also  serves  to  con- 
nect the  framework  of  the  body.  [PI.  X.]  In  short,  let  any 
person  attend  to  the  way  in  which  the  different  bones  are 
united,  and  consider  how  both  their  forms  and  articulations 
are  varied  and  adapted  to  different  situations  and  offices,  all 
advantageous  to  the  strength  and  motion  of  the  frame,  and  he 
will  feel  himself  constrained  to  admit  the  existence  of  a  wise 
designing  cause. 

If  the  bones  evince  intelligence,  gracious  design,  and  skilful 
contrivance,  the  muscles  and  tendons  also  bear  testimony  to 
the  being  of  God.  The  muscles  act  by  contractions  and  relax- 
ations ;  and  the  insertion,  the  action,  and  strength  of  each,  are 
nicely  proportioned  to  its  place  and  office  in  the  body.  [PI. 
XXVI.]  The  action  of  most  of  the  muscles  is  subject  to  the 
will ;  and,  at  pleasure,  we  can  put  them  in  motion,  or  allow  them 
to  remain  in  a  state  of  rest.  This,  indeed,  is  not  the  case  with 
them  all ;  but  design,  and  wisdom,  and  goodness,  are  equally 
obvious,  whether  their  action  be  voluntary  or   involuntary. 


44  GENERAL    VIEW 

Several  motions  and  processes  go  on  within  us,  without  any 
volition  on  our  part.  The  action  of  the  heart  and  of  the 
lungs,  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  the  digestion  of  the  food, 
and  the  various  secretions,  go  on  when  we  are  asleep  as  well 
as  when  we  are  awake,  and  do  not  depend  on  the  will.  This 
is  a  wise  and  gracious  provision,  for  these  motions  and  pro- 
cesses are  necessary  to  life  and  health ;  but,  if  these  nice  and 
complicated  movements  had  been  dependent  on  the  will,  they 
must  have  occupied  much  of  our  attention ;  in  many  in- 
stances, they  must  have  been  but  partially  performed ;  and  in 
sleep,  they  must  have  been  neglected  and  suspended.  There- 
fore, by  a  wise  appointment,  these  vital  motions  are  involun- 
tarily performed.  But  other  motions  depend  on  the  will,  and 
in  them  wisdom  and  goodness  are  as  conspicuous  as  in  those 
that  are  involuntary.  At  pleasure  we  can  open  our  eyes  to 
see  the  light,  or  shut  them  on  the  approach  of  danger :  we 
close  them  involuntarily  in  sleep.  By  an  act  of  my  will  I  can 
speak  or  be   silent ;  rise  up  or  sit  down ;  walk  or  stand  still. 

The  body  is  noarished  by  the  blood,  which,  flowing  from 
the  heart  as  the  fountain,  like  a  genial  and  fertilizing  stream, 
conveys  life  and  nutriment  to  the  whole  system.  The  heart 
is  a  hollow  muscle,  of  a  conical  shape,  which  involuntarily 
contracts  and  relaxes  more  than  sixty  times  in  a  minute, 
and  acts  as  a  forcing-pump  to  propel  the  blood  through  the 
arteries.  It  consists  of  four  distinct  cavities.  The  two 
largest  are  called  ventricles  ;  the  two  less,  auricles.  The 
right  ventricle,  by  its  contractions,  propels  the  blood,  by  the 
pulmonary  artery  and  its  numerous  ramifications,  through 
the  lungs,  where  it  is  every  moment  undergoing  a  great 
change,  giving  out  carbonic  acid,  and  taking  in  oxygen — a 
process  essential  to  life.  The  blood,  on  leaving  the  lungs, 
passes  into  the  left  auricle,  and  thence  into  the  left  ventricle, 
which  propels  it  through  the  proper  arteries,  to  carry  the 
vital  aliment  through  every  part  of  the  system  [PL  XI.]. 

But  the  circulation  is  not  effected  by  the  propulsive  action 
of  the  heart  alone.  It  is  aided  by  a  peristaltic  motion  in  the 
arteries,  which  have  a  muscular  structure,  and  are  much 
stronger  than  the  veins,  through  which  the  blood  is  con- 
ducted back  to  the  heart.  Both  the  arteries  and  veins  are 
furnished  with  valves.  Those  of  the  arteries  are  situated 
where  these  vessels  issue  from  the  heart,  and  are  so  con- 
structed as  to  allo>v  a  free  passage  of  the  blood  from  the 
heart  towards  the  extremities,  but  to  prevent  its  return  by 
the  same  channel.  In  the  veins,  the  valves  are  so  formed  as 
to  permit  the  blood  to  flow  freely  from  the  extremities  towards 
the  heart,  but  to  hinder  it  from  moving  in  the  opposite  direc- 


OF    THE    HUMAN    BODY.  45 

tion.  These  valves  are  most  numerous  in  the  small  branches, 
where  the  impetus  of  the  blood  is  least.  In  the  structure  of 
the  valves  of  the  blood-vessels,  design  and  contrivance  are 
obvious.  It  was  by  attending  to  this  circumstance  that  Har- 
vey* was  led  to  the  discovery  of  the  interesting  fact  of  the 
circulation  of  the  blood,  by  which  he  has  acquired  a  lasting 
celebrity.  Can  it  then  be  imagined  for  a  moment,  that  the 
peculiar  structure  of  the  arterial  and  venous  valves,  by  ob- 
serving and  reasoning  on  which  that  distinguished  physician 
was  led  to  the  discovery  of  a  great  fact  in  nature,  happened 
without  design  and  skilful  contrivance  ?  This  imagination 
cannot  be  entertained  but  by  the  stupid  credulity  of  atheism. 

The  blood,  sent  from  the  left  ventricle  of  the  heart,  and 
conveyed  through  the  system  by  the  branches  and  capillary 
ramifications  of  the  arteries,  returns  by  the  veins.  The  arte- 
ries, in  proceeding  from  the  heart,  branch  out  and  become 
smaller  and  smaller  ;  and  the  veins,  in  advancing  towards  it, 
gradually  unite  and  are  enlarged,  till  the  whole  of  those  re- 
turning channels,  by  reiterated  unions,  are  formed  into  one 
large  trunk,  through  which  they  pour  their  contents  into  the 
right  auricle  of  the  heart.  The  blood,  having  thus  com- 
pleted the  circulation,  instantly  sets  out  again  on  its  tour,  to 
discharge,  in  passing  through  the  lungs,  those  portions  which 
are  noxious,  and  convey  fresh  nutriment  through  the  body. 
The  blood-vessels  are  so  wonderfully  ramified,  that  scarcely 
a  spot  can  be  punctured  but  the  blood  will  appear. 

The  whole  of  the  blood,  however,  does  not  perform  this 
circulation.  The  ultimate  ramifications  of  the  arteries,  in 
many  instances,  are  so  minute  as  not  to  afford  a  passage  to 
the  red  parts  of  the  blood,  but  transmit  the  thin  and  pellucid 
part  of  it  only  ;  and  those  ramifications,  instead  of  commu- 
nicating with  the  veins,  lodge  their  contents  in  bones,  mus- 
cles, ligaments,  and  other  parts  of  the  body,  where,  by  another 
part  of  the  inscrutable  process  of  assimilation,  this  fluid  is 
converted  into  a  substance  of  the  same  specific  character  and 
properties  with  the  parts  to  which  it  is  conveyed.  On  seeing 
corn,  fruit,  herbs,  and  roots,  in  the  various  stages  of  their 
growth,  who  would  imagine  they  could  be  changed  into  blood, 

*  A  physician  of  London,  and  liberal  benefactor  of  the  Royal  College  of 
Physicians.  His  curious  and  wonderful  discovery  produced  an  astonishing^ 
revolution  in  the  practice  of  medicine  ;  and  hence  many  claims  have  been 
instituted  to  the  fame  and  honor  which  belong-  to  Harvey  alone.  It  is  the  opin- 
ion of  some  that  Hippocrates  was  the  original  discoverer  of  the  circulation  of 
the  blood,  and  that  Harvey  merely  has  the  honor  of  reviving  the  knowledge  of 
the  fact  of  the  circulation. — See  Dr.  Coxe's  Vindication  of  Hippocrates,  Phil- 
adelphia, 18:^4. 


46 


GENERAL    VIEW 


and  flesh,  and  bones  ?  The  process  carried  on  in  this  secret 
laboratory  eludes  our  investigation ;  but  it  indicates  the  hand 
of  a  wise  and  mighty  Chemist,  who  constituted  the  wonder- 
ful apparatus  by  which  the  surprising  change  is  accomplished, 
and  endued  all  its  parts  with  a  suitable  activity.  Besides, 
these  minute  vessels  pour  their  contents  into  all  the  cavities, 
and  into  the  glands,  where  they  are  afterwards  changed  into 
fluids  of  different  qualities,  and  which  answer  different  pur- 
poses. Some  of  the  glands  prepare  a  fluid  for  lubricating 
the  joints,  and  the  parts  in  motion  ;  some  furnish  fluids  to 
promote  digestion,  and  to  assist  in  the  preparation  of  aliment; 
and  some  yield  a  fluid  to  protect  the  skin,  and  to  preserve  it 
in  a  proper  state  for  performing  its  several  offices. 

But  the  whole  contents  of  these  capillary  arteries  which 
wander  from  the  circulation,  cannot  be  allowed  continually 
to  accumulate  in  the  bones,  muscles,  and  other  parts  to 
which  they  are  conveyed  :  accordingly  we  meet  with  a  set 
of  vessels,  which,  on  account  of  the  transparency  of  the  fluid 
which  they  contain,  are  called  lymphatics.  They  begin  from 
surfaces  and  cavities  in  all  parts  of  the  body  as  absorbents  ; 
and,  like  the  veins,  they  form,  by  the  union  of  many  smaller 
vessels,  large  tubes,  and  terminate  in  two  trunks,  which 
empty  their  contents  into  the  veins  a  little  before  the  veins 
enter  the  heart.  Thus  the  lymphatics  throw  back  into  the 
circulation  those  particles  which  are  no  longer  of  use  in  the 
system.  What  is  unfit  to  be  retained  in  the  circulation  is 
carried  off*  by  vessels  which  open  externally  upon  the  surface 
of  the  skin,  or  on  the  internal  surface  of  the  lungs,  or  in  the 
kidneys  and  intestinal  canal.  By  these  outlets,  by  perspira- 
tion, by  exhalation  from  the  lungs,  &c.,  every  thing  unfit  for 
remaining  in  the  system  is  drained  off". 

The  lungs,  which  are  so  essential  to  life,  consist  of  diflfer- 
ent  lobes,  and  are  composed  of  a  great  number  of  membra- 
nous cells,  and  of  numerous  ramifications  of  blood-vessels, 
nerves,  and  lymphatics,  all  connected  by  cellular  substance. 
The  cells,  which  constitute  the  greatest  part  of  the  bulk  of 
the  lungs,  are  irregular  in  their  shape.  They  are  very 
small,  and  have  been  estimated  at  a  fiftieth  part  of  an  inch 
in  diameter.  The  number  of  them  is  very  great;  but  neither 
their  number  nor  dimensions  can  be  accurately  determined. 
It  is  evident,  however,  that  in  extent  they  greatly  exceed  the 
surface  of  the  body. 

The  cells  are  closely  connected,  and  freely  communicate 
with  each  other,  but  have  no  communication  with  the  eel- 


OF    THE    HUMAN    BODY.  47 

lular  substance  which  unites  and  strengthens  them.  From 
the  cells  there  arise  small  hollow  tubes,  called  bronchia;, 
which  are  enlarged  by  gradual  junctions,  till,  at  the  upper 
part  of  the  thorax,  all  the  tubes  on  each  side  unite  in  one; 
and  the  two  branches  joining  together  form  the  windpipe. 
The  numberless  ramifications  of  the  pulmonary  artery  and 
vein  are  spread  over  every  part  of  the  cellular  substance  ot 
the  lungs,  and  carry  the  circulating  fluid  throughout  the 
whole  of  those  spongy  bodies,  so  that  the  blood  in  the  ves- 
sels and  the  air  in  the  cells  are  brought  into  such  a  state  of 
contiguity  that  they  can  act  on  each  other.  Each  of  the  ribs 
is  movable  between  the  bodies  of  the  vertebr.-E  with  which 
it  is  connected  ;  and  the  breast  bone,  by  its  connection  with 
the  ribs,  partakes  of  their  motion ;  consequently  the  cavity  of 
the  chest,  in  which  the  lungs  are  lodged,  is  susceptible  of 
considerable  dilatation  and  contraction ;  and  these  changes 
in  its  dimensions  are  much  assisted  by  the  contractions  of 
the  diaphragm,  or  by  the  action  of  the  abdominal  muscles 
pressing  the  bowels  upwards.  Anatomical  minuteness  is  not 
the  object  of  the  present  treatise,  and  therefore  what  has 
now  been  said  may  suffice  for  a  general  account  of  the  organ 
of  respiration  ;  and  the  structure  and  functions  of  this  organ 
exhibit  decisive  evidence,  not  only  of  design,  but  of  admira- 
ble contrivance  also. 

An  animal  which  has  once  respired  cannot  exist  without 
the  continuance  of  the  process.  Some  animals  need  more  at- 
mospheric air,  some  less  ;  but  none  can  live  long  without  it. 
The  assertions  that  can  be  opposed  to  this  fact  are  few  and 
doubtful.  We  have  been  told  of  serpents  and  worms  that 
have  been  found  alive  in  the  heart  of  stones,  and  of  toads  en- 
closed in  trees  and  rocks.  But,  admitting  this,  it  is  obvious 
that  there  must  have  been  some  communication  between  the 
external  air  and  the  bed  of  the  animal.  Air  insinuates  itself 
into  the  cell  constructed  by  the  mason-bee  for  the  lodgment 
of  its  eggs,  although  that  cell  seems  hermetically  sealed  ;  and 
there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  it  likewise  penetrates  to 
the  animal  embedded  in  a  rock  or  tree.  Experiment  shows 
that  this  is  not  mere  supposition,  for  the  toad  expires  under 
the  exhausted  receiver  of  an  air-pump;  and,  if  put  into  a  ves- 
sel large  enough  to  contain  it  with  ease,  but  which  is  her- 
metically sealed,  it  does  not  long  survive.  The  frog  leaps 
away  wanting  its  head  or  its  heart,  and  it  survives  the  loss  of 
the  greater  part  of  its  spinal  marrow.  Eels  and  serpents  can 
move   for  some  time  even    after    evisceration.     Snails    and 


48 


GENERAL    VIEW 


chameleons  can  live  long  on  air  alone.  But  the  life  of  all 
animals  is  soon  exthiguished  on  the  exclusion  of  air. 

Such  is  the  fact  in  nature  ;  and  accordingly,  every  ani- 
mated being,  in  one  way  or  another,  can  imbibe  or  absorb 
atmospheric  air.  What  is  the  provision  made  in  man  for  the 
accomplishment  of  this  essential  purpose  ?  He  has  lungs, 
consisting,  as  we  have  already  seen,  of  a  vast  multitude  of 
communicating  cells,  for  the  reception  of  the  air ;  and  by 
means  of  them  that  invisible  fluid  is  brought  into  such  a  state 
of  contiguity  with  the  blood  that  they  can  act  upon .  each 
other  ;  and  by  a  process,  which  the  present  state  of  our 
knowledge  does  not  enable  us  fully  to  explain,  the  blood  ex- 
tracts a  vital  nutriment  from  the  air,  or  the  air  carries  off  a 
deleterious  substance  from  the  blood,  or  both.  The  lungs 
instantly  expel  the  portion  of  air  that  has  thus  discharged  its 
office,  and  take  in  a  fresh  portion  to  pass  through  a  similar 
process.  This  inspiration  and  expiration  are  essential  to  hu- 
man life.  It  may  be  added  that  while  air  thus  taken  into  the 
lungs  supports  life,  if  it  be  thrown  into  the  vascular  system,  it 
quickly  brings  on  agitation,  convulsions,  and  death. 

It  is  now  a  well-known  fact  that  atmospheric  air  is  not  a 
homogeneous  fluid,  but  consists  of  three  different  gases, 
called  oxygen,  nitrogen,  and  carbonic  acid,  which,  though  of 
different  specific  gravities,  are  always  found  together ;  and  an 
atmosphere  thus  constituted  is  the  best  fitted  for  supporting 
animal  and  vegetable  life.  The  lungs  did  not  form  the  at- 
mosphere, nor  did  the  atmosphere  create  the  lungs,  yet  the 
organ  of  the  body  and  the  external  element  are  admirably 
adapted  to  each  other  ;  the  lungs  to  bring  the  air  into  a  state 
of  contiguity  with  the  blood,  and  the  blood  and  air  to  exer- 
cise a  reciprocal  action.  There  is  always  a  large  proportion 
of  blood  in  the  lungs,  and  consequently  in  a  state  of  contigu- 
ity with  the  air  in  the  cells.  The  blood  performs  a  com.plete 
circulation  in  a  short  time,  and  during  that  space  the  whole 
of  it  passes  through  the  lungs. 

It  is  not  long  since  respiration  was  in  any  degree  under- 
stood, and  still  there  remains  much  room  for  investigation 
and  discovery.  But  we  know  that  the  air  undergoes  a  great 
change  in  the  lungs,  and  produces  a  remarkable  effect  on  the 
blood.  Air  does  not  issue  from  the  lungs  in  the  same  state 
in  which  it  entered  them.  Its  quantity  is  somewhat  dimin- 
ished ;  it  has  lost  a  portion  of  its  oxygen,  in  the  room  of 
which  it  has  gained  about  eight  ^^r  cent,  in  bulk  of  carbonic 
acid,  thrown  out  probably  from  the  exhalent  vessels  of  the 


OF    THE    HUMAN    BODY.  49 

lungs ;  and  it  is  loaded  with  aqueous  vapor.  Besides,  it  is 
a  well-known  fact  that  arterial  and  venous  blood  are  not  of  the 
same  color.  The  blood  has  more  of  a  vermilion  redness  on 
leaving  the  heart  to  proceed  in  the  circulation  than  on  ils  re- 
turn to  the  right  ventricle.  This  change  of  color  is  produced 
in  the  lungs,  and  is  occasioned  perhaps  by  the  ejection  of  car- 
bon, and  the  absorption  of  the  disengaged  caloric  of  the 
oxygen  that  has  disappeared  in  that  organ.  Whatever  theory 
we  adopt  with  respect  to  respiration,  whether  we  consider  it 
as  acting  by  absorption  or  exhalation  ;  as  the  means  of  im- 
parting a  vital  nutriment,  or  of  carrying  off  something  which, 
if  allowed  to  remain  in  the  system,  would  almost  instantane- 
ously extinguish  life  ;  or  whether  we  combine  these  notions, 
— in  any  case,  we  see  a  grand  purpose  accomplished.  We 
clearly  see  the  end,  although  the  physiological  process  be 
not  fully  understood. 

Respiration  is  likely  the  chief  cause  of  animal  heat,  for 
the  temperature  of  arterial  blood  is  higher  than  that  of  venous ; 
the  temperature  of  the  left  side  of  the  heart  than  that  of  the 
right ;  and  the  temperature  diminishes  as  the  distance  from 
the  heart  increases.  That  atmospheric  air  contains  a  consid- 
erable portion  of  caloric  is  no  hypothetical  assumption.  It 
can  be  demonstrated  ;  for  air,  when  rapidly  compressed, 
gives  out  both  light  and  caloric ;  and  an  instrument  has  been 
constructed  for  procuring  fire  by  this  process.  It  is  probable 
that  the  portion  of  oxygen  gas  which  disappears  in  respira- 
tion is  converted  into  the  carbonic  acid  which  is  thrown  out 
of  the  lungs.  But  the  specific  caloric  of  this  last  is  greatly 
inferior  to  tha^  of  the  former ;  consequently  a  large  quantity 
of  heat  is  set  free  in  the  lungs  when  the  conversion  of  gases 
takes  place.*  This  liberated  heat  passes  into  the  blood,  and 
is  given  out  by  it  in  the  circulation.  Thus  a  quantity  of 
caloric  is  disengaged  in  the  lungs  in  every  respiration,  and 
by  means  of  the  blood  is  diffused  throughout  the  body, 
warming  and  enlivening  it.  What  wonderful  adaptations 
are  here  presented  !  What  a  gracious  provision  for  support- 
ing human  life  ! 

*  Arterialization,  however,  will  not  account  for  the  entire  phenomenon  of 
animal  heat.  The  influence  of  the  nervous  system  over  its  development  is  un- 
doubted, though  phvsiologists  are  not  agreed  as  to  the  mode  by  which  it  ope- 
rates. Its  action  may  be  either  direct  or  indirect ;  tiiat  is,  the  nerves  may  pos- 
sess some  specific  power  of  g-enerating-  heat,  or  they  may  excite  certain  opera- 
tions by  which  the  same  effect  is  occasioned.  It  is  far  from  improbable,  that 
the  nerves  act  more  by  the  latter  than  the  former  mode  :  that  the  infinite  number 
of  chemical  phenomena  going-  on  in  the  minute  arterial  branches  during-  the 
processes  of  secretion  and  nutrition — processes  which  are  entirely  dej:>pr-dent  on 
the  nervous  system — are  attended  with  disengagement  of  calo,-fo.-"/'rfj:iyn. 

5 


50  GENERAL    VIEW 

There  seems  to  be  a  correspondence  between  the  respira- 
tion and  comparative  heat  of  different  animals.  The  temper- 
ature of  fish  which  oxydate  the  blood  by  gills,  is  not  much 
above  that  of  the  surrounding  medium.  In  man,  the  ordi- 
nary temperature  near  the  surface  of  the  body  is  about  96° 
Fahrenheit ;  and  in  most  of  the  mammalia  it  is  somewhat 
higher.  In  birds,  the  lungs  of  which  are  differently  consti- 
tuted, and  much  larger  in  proportion  to  the  size  of  the  ani- 
mal, the  temperature  is  still  higher  than  in  the  mammalia. 
We  may  add  that  birds  are  exceedingly  delicate  as  to  air, 
and  die  in  air  where  a  mouse  lives  without  any  perceptible 
inconveniency. 

In  respiration  we  have  both  the  planning  and  the  execu- 
tion of  an  extensive  and  complicated  process.  We  see  won- 
derful combinations  and  adaptations  in  order  to  the  accom- 
plishment of  a  beneficial  end  ;  and,  by  the  constitution  of 
our  minds,  we  are  constrained  to  acknowledge  design  and 
skilful  contrivance  in  the  combinations  and  adaptations. 

In  connection  with  respiration,  we  may  take  notice  of  the 
voice  and  the  faculty  of  speech.  The  principal  organ  of  the 
voice  is  the  larynx  [PI.  XII.]  :  if  it  be  injured,  the  air  passes 
through  the  windpipe  without  emitting  any  sound.  Besides 
the  larynx,  the  organs  of  speech  are  the  tongue,  palate,  and 
teeth.  With  what  promptitude  does  the  tongue  obey  the 
understanding  and  will,  and  communicate  a  vast  variety  of 
impulses  to  the  air !  Alphabetical  writing,  in  which  we  paint 
sounds,  and  express  all  our  thoughts  by  the  varied  combina- 
tion of  a  few  arbitrary  signs,  is  justly  accounted  an  astonish- 
ing invention.  It  is  a  brilliant  display  of  design  and  skilful 
contrivance.  But  is  not  that  combination  of  organs  by 
which  we  readily  utter  such  a  variety  of  articulate  sounds  far 
more  wonderful  ?  How  great  is  that  wisdom  which  formed 
the  organs  of  speech  ! 

The  continual  drain  by  perspiration,  and  otherwise,  re- 
quires a  constant  supply.  This  supply  is  bountifully  fur- 
nished by  nature  around  us ;  appetite  tells  us  when  it  is  need- 
ed, and  what  quantity  is  suflicient,  and  we  are  provided 
with  a  wonderful  apparatus  for  its  reception  and  elaboration. 
Let  us,  then,  take  a  cursory  view  of  the  intestinal  and  ali- 
mentary canal.  The  food  is  received  into  the  mouth,  and 
masticated  by  the  teeth.  Now,  the  food  does  not  make  the 
teeth,  but  the  teeth  are  evidently  formed  for  the  mastication 
of  the  food.  They  are  also  of  importance  in  aiding  the  ar- 
ticulation of  the  voice.  Infants,  for  whom  a  liquid  aliment 
is  provided,  and  who  have  not  acquired  the  use  of  speech, 


OF   THE    HUMAN    BODY.  51 

have  them  not ;  but  they  make  their  appearance  when  they 
are  wanted.  [PI.  XXV.]  * 

The  organs  of  taste  are  stationed  in  the  mouth,  with  those 
of  smelling  in  their  vicinity,  to  warn  us  against  the  admission 
of  any  thing  noxious  into  the  stomach  ;  and  these  senses, 
when  they  are  not  vitiated  by  unnatural  habits,  are  not  only 
faithful  monitors,  but  sources  of  much  enjoyment.  Are 
there  no  marks  of  intelligence,  design  and  contrivance,  in 
fixing  the  teeth  just  where  they  are  needed,  and  in  the  only 
place  where  they  can  be  useful  ?  Is  there  no  wisdom  and 
no  benignity  in  guarding  the  avenue  to  the  stomach,  not 
only  by  the  eye,  which  inspects  every  substance  presented  to 
the  mouth,  but  also  by  the  organs  of  smell  and  taste,  posted 
at  the  very  entrance  of  the  alimentary  canal,  to  detect  every 
thing  unwholesome  in  the  food  which  may  have  escaped  the 
vigilance  of  the  eye  ?  No  man  in  the  right  use  of  reason 
can  affirm  it. 

In  tracing  the  food  in  its  progress,  the  marks  of  gracious 
design  and  skilful  contrivance  still  accompany  us,  and  mul- 
tiply as  we  proceed.  The  trachea,  or  windpipe,  the  upper 
part  of  which  is  called  the  larynx,  communicates  with  the 
(Esophagus,  or  passage  to  the  stomach.  If  the  minutest  part 
of  our  food  pass  into  the  trachea,  it  never  fails  to  produce  a 
violent  cough,  and  sometimes  very  alarming  symptoms.  This 
accident,  however,  seldom  happens.  How  is  it  prevented  ? 
By  a  very  simple  but  skilful  contrivance.  A  neat,  elastic, 
cartilaginous  lid,  called  epiglottis,  is  so  attached  to  the 
mouth  of  the  windpipe  as  to  be  pressed  down  by  the  food, 
which  it  prevents  from  passing  towards  the  lungs,  while  the 
passage  to  the  stomach  remains  unimpeded.  At  the  same 
time,  the  veliun  palati,  drawn  backwards  by  its  muscles, 
closes  the  openings  of  the  nose,  and  of  the  eustachian  tubes, 
and  so  prevents  the  food  from  returning  through  the  nose, 
which  sometimes  happens  partially  in  drinking.  Moreover, 
in  the  act  of  deglutition,  the  larynx,  which,  being  composed 

*  Amon^'st  the  vessels  of  the  human  body,  the  pipe  which  conveys  the  saliva 
from  the  place  where  it  is  made,  to  the  place  where  it  is  wanted,  deserves  to  be 
reckoned  among  the  most  intelligible  pieces  of  mechanism  with  which  we  are 
acquainted.  [PI.  XVII.]  The  saliva,  we  all  know,  is  used  in  the  mouth;  but 
much  of  it  is  manufactured  on  the  outside  of  the  cheek,  by  the  parotid  gland, 
which  lies  between  the  ear  and  the  angle  of  the  lower  jaw.  In  order  to  carry 
the  secretion  to  its  destination,  there  is  laid  from  the  gland,  on  the  outside,  a 

i)ipe  about  the  thickness  of  a  wheat  straw,  and  about  three  fingers'  breadth  in 
ength,  which,  after  riding  over  the  masseter  muscle,  bores  for  itself  a  hole 
through  the  very  middle  of  the  cheek,  enters,  by  that  hole,  which  is  a  complete 
perforation  of  the  bticcinator  muscle,  into  the  mouth,  and  there  discharges  its 
fluid  very  copiously. — Foley. 


52  GENERAL    VIEW 

of  cartilaginous  rings,  in  its  ordinary  state  compresses  the 
oesophagus,  is  carried  forwards  and  upwards  by  muscles 
destined  for  the  purpose,  and  consequently  dilates  the  open- 
ing of  the  gullet.  On  reaching  the  gullet,  the  food  is  carried 
down  by  the  principle  of  gravity  ;  and  a  mechanical  contri- 
vance also  lends  its  aid.  The  muscular  fibres  of  the  oesopha- 
gus contract  from  above,  and  press  the  aliment  forward  to 
the  stomach.  This  is  obvious  in  drinking  with  the  head 
downwards,  when  deglutition  can  be  performed  by  the  mus- 
cular action  of  the  oesophagus  only. 

The  food  soon  reaches  the  stomach,  a  membranous  bag,  or 
dilatation  of  the  alimentary  canal  [PI.  XIII.],  where  it  is 
accumulated  and  undergoes  new  processes.  In  its  process 
towards  the  stomach,  the  food  is  broken  and  divided  by  the 
teeth,  and  attenuated  by  the  saliva,  a  powerful  solvent.  On 
reaching  the  stomach,  it  is  subjected  to  the  operation  of  a 
new  chemical  agent,  the  gastric  juice,  a  liquid  secreted  chief- 
ly by  that  organ.  The  nature  of  this  liquid  is  not  yet  fully 
known.  Its  taste,  color,  and  solvent  powers,  are  different  in 
different  classes  of  animals.  Some  living  creatures  cannot 
digest  that  which  is  the  food  of  others.  Some  animals,  such 
as  sheep,  live  wholly  upon  vegetables  :  their  stomachs  do  not 
digest  animal  substances.  Others,  as  the  eagle,  feed  en- 
tirely on  animal  substances  :  their  stomachs  do  not  digest 
vegetables.  Hemlock  is  poisonous  to  man ;  but  goats  eat  it 
without  injury. 

The  gastric  juice  does  not  continue  always  of  the  same 
nature,  even  in  the  same  animal.  It  is  in  some  measure 
modified  according  to  the  age,  the  health,  the  habits,  and  the 
different  aliments  on  which  the  animal  subsists.  Sick  per- 
sons and  children  are  incapable  of  digesting  the  food  which 
is  nutritious  to  a  healthy  man.  Some  graminivorous  animals 
may  be  brought  to  live  on  animal  food,  and  to  reject  grass ; 
and  some  carnivorous  animals  may  be  accustomed  to  vege- 
ta,bles.  But  still  the  gastric  juice,  although  it  in  some  meas- 
ure accommodates  itself  to  the  substances  subjected  to  its 
operation,  evidently  appears  to  have  peculiar  qualities  in  cer- 
tain classes  of  animals.  In  the  dog,  it  dissolves  hard  bones, 
but,  in  equal  times,  makes  no  great  impression  on  potatoes, 
parsnips,  and  other  vegetable  substances.  On  the  other 
hand,  in  the  sheep  and  ox,  it  speedily  dissolves  vegetables, 
but  makes  little  impression  on  animal  bodies.  Different 
tribes  of  animals  are  distinguished  by  their  gastric  juice  as 
well  as  by  their  external  form,  and  both  are  w^ell  suited,  in 
every  instance,  to  the  habits  of  the  creature ;  for  in  many 


OF   THE    HUMAN    BODY.  So 

cases  there  is  an  astonishing  correspondence  between  the 
teeth  and  that  liquid.  The  teeth  of  graminivorous  animals 
are  differently  formed  from  those  of  the  carnivorous  tribes ; 
and  in  both  they  are  wonderfully  suited  to  the  food  and  to 
the  gastric  juice  of  the  animal.  He  who  can  believe  that 
all  these  adaptations  are  the  result  of  chance,  is  no  enemy  to 
credulity. 

The  gastric  juice,  while  it  dissolves  food,  even  although 
enclosed  in  perforated  metallic  tubes,  spares  the  living 
stomach.  But,  when  life  ceases,  this  liquid  often  acts  on  the 
very  organ  from  which  it  has  been  secreted.  It  differs  from 
a  chemical  solvent,  in  having  an  assimilating  power,  by  which 
it  reduces  all  substances,  whether  animal  or  vegetable,  into 
a  soft,  pulpy  mass,  named  chyme,  and  prepares  them  for  pass- 
ing from  the  stomach  into  the  intestines.  If  the  food  has  been 
properly  digested  in  the  stomach,  on  reaching  the  lower  ori- 
fice of  that  organ,  named  j9j/?o/'M5,  it  is  freely  allowed  to  pass. 
But  if  it  is  not  fully  reduced  to  chyme,  then,  by  a  sort  of  in- 
stinctive sensibility  of  the  pylorus,  it  is  thrown  back  into  the 
stomach  to  undergo  more  thoroughly  the  action  of  the  gastric 
juice.  In  the  intestines,  the  chyme  is  mingled  with  the  bile 
and  pancreatic  juice.  In  short,  from  one  extremity  of  the 
alimentary  canal  to  the  other,  fluids  are  perpetually  flowing 
into  it  from  the  glands  and  other  sources.  By  the  action  of 
these  fluids,  and  of  the  intestines,  the  chyme  is  formed  partly 
into  chyle,  which  is  absorbed  by  the  lacteals,  and  thrown  into 
the  circulation,  and  partly  into  excrementitious  matter,  which 
is  ejected.   [PI.  XXVII.] 

Here,  then,  we  see  an  astonishing  process  carried  on  by 
the  instrumentality  of  many  different  parts,  all  nicely  adapted 
to  each  other,  all  cooperating  in  the  same  work,  and  tending 
to  the  accomplishment  of  the  same  end — the  support  and 
nourishment  of  the  body.  The  mastication  and  deglutition 
of  the  food,  and  the  moistening  of  it  with  the  saliva  before  it 
enters  the  stomach ;  the  great  change  which  it  undergoes  in 
that  organ,  chiefly  by  means  of  the  dissolving  and  assimila- 
ting action  of  the  gastric  juice  ;  the  changes  induced  upon  the 
aliment  after  it  passes  from  the  stomach ;  the  separation  of 
chyle  from  the  excrementitious  part ;  the  absorption  of  the 
chyle  by  the  lacteals,  which  throw  it  into  the  blood ;  the  myste- 
rious process  of  assimilation  ;  the  peristaltic  motion  of  the  vis- 
cera [PI.  XIV.  fig.  2.,  and  PI.  XXVIL] ;  and  the  mucus 
which  is  continually  secreted  for  their  protection  against  the 
acrimony  of  their  contents, — these,  when  all  taken  together, 
exhibit  an  astonishing  process.  They  furnish  an  undeniable 
5* 


54  THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS. 

proof,  not  only  of  design  and  admirable  contrivance,  but  of 
great  benignity  also.  What  an  amazing  structure  is  the 
body  of  Man  !  How  wonderful  the  absorbent,  the  circula- 
tory and  secretory  apparatus  of  the  human  system  1  We  are 
wonderfully  made  ;  and  the  marks  of  wisdom  and  goodness 
are  deeply  impressed  on  every  part  of  our  frame. 

To  sum  up  all,  on  this  part  of  the  subject,  in  a  few  words  ; 
let  any  person  contemplate  the  human  body ;  let  him  atten- 
tively examine  the  skeleton,  the  figure  and  structure  of  the 
bones  of  which  it  is  composed,  with  their  articulations ;  the 
muscles,  their  origin,  insertion,  strength,  and  action ;  the  or- 
gans of  sense,  the  eye,  the  ear,  the  nostrils,  the  tongue,  and 
palate,  and  the  sense  of  feeling  diffused  over  the  whole  body ; 
the  structure  of  the  jaws,  the  stomach,  and  other  viscera  ; 
the  structure  and  action  of  the  lungs,  and  organs  of  speech  ; — 
and  if  he  can  retire  from  the  examination  without  a  deep  im- 
pression of  intelligence  and  design,  yea,  of  wisdom  and  good- 
ness, in  the  human  frame,  there  can  be  but  little  doubt  that 
his  understanding  is  singularly  obtuse,  or  his  heart  singularly 
depraved.  Every  mind,  open  to  the  force  of  evidence  and  to 
the  impressions  of  truth,  must  join  in  the  exclamation  of  an 
ancient  sage,  "  I  am  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made." 

It  may  here  be  remarked,  that,  as  food  nourishes  the  body, 
so  sleep  refreshes  both  body  and  mind.  This  mysterious 
phenomenon  we  are  unable  to  explain ;  but  its  periodical  re- 
turn is  necessary  to  life,  and  by  it  a  beneficial  end  is  accom- 
plished. There  is  an  obvious  relation  between  sleep  and  the 
rotation  of  the  earth  on  its  axis.  They  are  harmonious  parts 
of  one  whole. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS. 

Man  is  evidently  the  noblest  inhabitant  of  the  earth.  He 
is  not,  indeed,  so  strong  as  the  elephant,  nor  so  swift  as  the 
antelope  :  his  eye  is  not  so  piercing  as  that  of  the  eagle,  nor 
his  sense  of  smell  .-r  exquisite  as  that  of  the  dog :  but  the 
high  faculties  of  his  mind  give  him  superiority  and  dominion 
over  the  whole  animal  creation.  Around  us  wo  see  a  vast 
variety  of  objects,  possessing  very  different  qualities.  These 
objects  do  not  stand  at  a  great  distance  from  each  other ; 
they  arc  wonderfully  linked  together,  rising  above  each  other 
by  almost  imperceptible  degrees.     The  system  of  nature  is  a 


THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS.  55 

system  of  insensible  gradations.  The  two  extremes  of  organ- 
ic and  inorganic  matter,  perhaps,  meet  at  a  common  point. 
Corals  and  corallines  seem  to  unite  the  mineral,  vegetable, 
and  animal  kingdoms.  The  boundaries  of  animal  and  vege- 
table life  are  obscurely  defined,  and  the  interval  between  the 
polypus  and  man  is  filled  up  with  an  amazing  gradation  of 
animated  beings.  The  progress  from  unorganized  to  organ- 
ized matter,  from  vegetable  to  animal,  and  from  animal  to 
rational  existence,  presents  an  astonishing  and  gradually-as- 
cending series.  In  the  whole  progression  we  see  a  striking 
uniformity  of  plan,  with  a  rich  variety  in  the  execution:  beau- 
tiful analogies  and  nice  distinctions  every  where  occur. 

It  is  animal  existence  which,  at  present,  claims  our  atten- 
tion. The  earth,  the  air,  and  the  water,  are  all  abundantly 
replenished  with  sentient  beings,  differing  in  their  external 
appearance,  their  habits,  and  their  dispositions ;  and  all  en- 
joying happiness  according  to  their  several  constitutions. 
Man,  unquestionably,  stands  at  the  head  of  this  system  of 
animated  being ;  and  there  seems  to  be  a  much  larger  inter- 
val between  him  and  the  most  sagacious  of  the  inferior  ani- 
mals, than  what  occurs  in  any  other  part  of  the  gradation.  It 
is  true,  indeed,  that,  in  a  number  of  instances,  we  find  man 
in  a  state  little  superior  to  that  of  the  brutes ;  but,  in  the  view 
under  consideration,  we  must  take  his  capacity  of  improve- 
ment into  our  estimate.  My  full  conviction  is,  that  if  we 
were  to  examine  animals,  in  every  gradation  from  the  poly- 
pus to  man,  we  should  meet  with  incontrovertible  evidences 
of  design,  and  wise  and  benevolent  contrivance,  in  every 
stage  of  our  progress.  But  a  field  of  this  kind  is  greatly  too 
extensive  for  our  present  purpose.  It  would  be,  no  doubt, 
both  pleasant  and  instructive  leisurely  to  pass  through  the 
whole  animal  kingdom,  and  to  examine  with  minute  atten- 
tion every  thing  that  fell  in  our  way.  This,  however,  would 
lead  into  voluminous  details,  instead  of  a  concise  treatise. 
My  limits  confine  me  to  a  few  remarks ;  and  as  neither  com- 
parative anatomy  nor  natural  history  is  my  object,  I  shall  pay 
no  attention  to  systematic  arrangement,  but  shall  endeavor 
to  show, 

I.  That  the  form  of  the  inferior  animals  is  admirably 
adapted  to  their  manner  of  life  ; 

II.  That  they  are  provided  with  suitable  clothing  ; 

III.  That  they  possess  means  of  defence  suited  to  their 
condition ; 

IV.  That  they  are  qualified  for  procuring  their  food ; 


56  FORM    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS. 

V.  That  we  meet  with  surprising  adaptations  of  animals  to 
peculiar  circumstances. 

Under  each  of  these  heads,  I  shall  mention  a  number  of 
particulars  respecting  the  inferior  animals  :  these  particulars 
will  be  of  a  very  miscellaneous  nature,  but,  I  presume,  will 
all  tend  to  show  wise  design  and  benevolent  contrivance  in 
nature. 

I.  The  form  of  the  inferior  animals  is  admirably  adapted 
to  their  manner  of  life. 

1.  In  the  form  of  the  different  kinds  of  quadrupeds  there 
is  great  variety  ;  but  amidst  all  the  variety  we  perceive  the 
same  general  plan ;  the  same  great  outline  appears  in  the 
skeleton,  in  the  articulations  of  the  bones,  in  the  disposition, 
form  and  insertion  of  the  muscles ;  and  in  several  other  cir- 
cumstances, all  accommodated  to  the  peculiar  nature  and 
habits  of  the  animal.  The  organs  of  sense,  of  digestion,  and 
of  circulation,  occur  in  all  the  species,  but  are  varied  accord- 
ing to  the  destination  of  each. 

In  order  to  support  the  head  of  quadrupeds,  they  are  fur- 
nished with  a  very  strong  ligament,  firmly  bracing  the  head 
to  the  vertebrae  of  the  back.  This  ligament  arises  from  the 
spines  of  the  dorsal  and  cervical  vertebrae,  which  are  length- 
ened out  for  that  purpose,  and  is  fixed  to  the  middle  and  pos- 
terior part  of  the  occipital  bone.  It  is  of  great  strength  and 
size  in  all  quadrupeds,  but  is  remarkably  so  in  the  elephant, 
where  the  great  weight  of  the  head  requires  a  strong  support. 
This  ligament  is  wanting  in  man,  because  he  did  not  need  it ; 
but  it  is  of  great  use  to  quadrupeds,  and  they  are  provided 
with  it.  Here,  as  in  every  other  department  of  nature,  the 
provision  is  suited  to  the  exigency  of  the  case. 

In  graminivorous  animals,  we  see  a  remarkable  correspond- 
ence between  the  length  of  the  legs  and  the  length  of  the 
neck.  According  to  the  ancient  fable,  Tantalus  was  set  up 
to  the  chin  in  water,  and  apples  were  at  his  lips;  but  he  had 
no  power  to  stoop  to  the  one  to  quench  his  thirst,  or  to  reach 
up  to  the  other  to  satisfy  his  hunger.  There  is  nothing  like 
this  in  nature.  All  animals  are  capable  of  gathering  their 
food.  Herbage  is  abundantly  provided  for  the  graminivo- 
rous tribes,  and  there  is  such  a  correspondence  between  their 
necks  and  their  legs  that  they  can  easily  reach  it. 

2.  The  external  figure  of  birds  is  excellently  adapted  to  the 
mode  of  life  which  they  are  destined  to  pursue.  They  can 
either  walk  on  the  ground,  or  by  the  action  of  their  wings 
rise  buoyant  on  the  air,  and  pass  through  it  with  great  rapidi- 


FORM    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS.  57 

ty,  somewhat  like  fish  in  water.  Their  wings  are  moved  by 
remarkably  strong  muscles,  and  their  tail  serves  as  a  rudder 
to  direct  their  course.  In  most  cases,  their  heads  are  small. 
The  proper  bones  of  the  cranium,  at  least  in  adult  animals, 
are  not  joined  by  sutures,  but  are  consolidated  into  a  single 
piece.  This  small  and  compact  head  generally  terminates 
in  a  sharp-pointed  beak ;  and  the  breast-bone  is  formed 
somewhat  like  the  prow  of  a  ship,  so  that  the  bird  can  pass 
easily  through  the  air.  The  wings  are  placed  more  forward 
than  the  middle  part  of  the  body  ;  and,  at  first  sight,  we 
should  be  ready  to  imagine  that,  in  flying,  the  posterior  parts 
would  hang  down,  and  that  the  bird  would  be  unable  to  pre- 
serve the  body  in  a  horizontal  position.  But,  by  stretching 
out  its  head,  which  acts  upon  the  lever  of  a  long  neck,  by 
filling  its  abdominal  sacs  with  air,  and  by  expanding  the  tail, 
it  alters  the  centre  of  gravity,  and  keeps  its  body  nearly  in 
the  plane  of  the  horizon.  The  legs  of  birds  are  placed  far 
back  in  their  bodies ;  but,  by  erecting  the  head  and  neck, 
they  throw  the  centre  of  gravity  on  the  feet.  As  birds  are 
destined  to  pass  rapidly  through  the  atmosphere,  so  their  in- 
ternal configuration,  as  well  as  their  external  form,  is  hap- 
pily fitted  for  volitation.  They  harmoniously  conspire  for 
the  purpose,  and  so  run  into  each  other  that  I  shall  consider 
them  together. 

Receptacles  of  air  pervade  the  whole  bodies  of  birds,  and 
their  respiratory  organs  constitute  one  of  the  most  singular 
structures  in  the  animal  economy.  Their  respiration  is  per- 
formed by  means  of  lungs  which  are  fixed  to  the  back-bone, 
and  which  have  a  communication  with  air  cells  spread  over 
the  whole  abdomen,  and  also  with  hollow  bones,  which,  in- 
stead of  marrow,  are  filled  with  air.  And  not  the  hollow 
bones  only  are  filled  with  air,  but  the  pinions  also :  in  some 
cases,  the  communication  even  extends  to  analogous  cavities 
in  the  muscles.  In  those  birds  which  soar  highest,  such  as 
the  eagle,  the  hawk,  and  the  lark,  the  cavities  in  the  bones 
and  below  the  muscles  are  very  large.  This  great  diff"usion 
of  air  throughout  the  bodies  of  birds,  makes  them  specifically 
lighter  than  otherwise  they  would  have  been,  and  so  fits  them 
for  supporting  themselves  in  that  medium  through  which  they 
are  destined  to  pass.  If  we  consider  the  rarefaction  of  the 
included  air  by  the  heat  of  the  animal,  we  will  easily  perceive 
that  these  air  cells  enable  the  bird  to  fly  with  much  more 
ease  than  it  could  have  done  if  it  had  been  formed  like 
quadrupeds. 

The  air  cells  seem  likewise  to  supply  the  place  of  a  dia- 


58  FORM    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS. 

phragm,  and  of  strong  abdominal  muscles.  Without  adding 
any  thing  to  the  weight  of  the  body,  they  produce  the  same 
effect  on  the  viscera  as  those  muscles  would  have  done. 
Probably  they  are  also  of  much  importance  to  the  respiration 
of  the  bird.  The  ostrich,  indeed,  which  does  not  fly,  is  pro- 
vided with  them ;  but  from  the  use  which  it  makes  of  its 
wings  in  running,  they  no  doubt  contribute  to  the  rapidity 
of  its  motion.  The  bat  has  them  not;  but  its  structure  is 
peculiar,  and  its  flight  is  never  long.  Here  we  see  a  con- 
formation of  parts  evidently  fitted  to  the  bird's  manner  of  life. 
The  wings  did  not  form  the  pointed  beak  and  sharp  breast- 
bone, nor  did  they  create  the  air  vesicles ;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  pointed  beak  and  the  air  vesicles  did  not  give  ex- 
istence to  the  wings.  They  exist  independently  on  each 
other;  yet  they  all  harmonize  and  contribute  to  the  same 
end.     The  inference  is  obvious  and  irresistible. 

3.  Of  the  inhabitants  of  the  water  there  is  a  prodigious 
variety ;  but  one  general  figure,  subject  to  different  modifica- 
tions, prevails  among  fish.  Their  form  is  well  fitted  for  trav- 
ersing the  fluid  in  which  they  reside;  and,  by  means  of  their 
fins  and  tails,  many  of  them  can  pass  through  the  water  with 
great  rapidity.  Men,  in  some  measure,  imitate  the  shape  of 
fish,  in  the  construction  of  fast-sailing  vfsspls.  But  many 
fishes,  with  the  greatest  ease,  overtake  a  ship  under  sail, 
play  around  it  as  if  it  were  motionless,  and  dart  off  before  it 
at  pleasure.  The  tail  is  the  great  instrument  of  progressive 
motion ;  the  fins  serving  chiefly  to  keep  the  body  upright. 

Fish  are  furnished  with  organs  of  respiration  suited  to  the 
element  which  they  inhabit.  Instead  of  lungs,  they  have 
gills,  or  hrancMcB,  which  are  placed  behind  the  head  on  each 
side ;  and,  in  most  instances,  have  a  movable  gill  cover.  By 
means  of  these  organs,  which  are  connected  with  the  throat, 
the  animal  draws  its  oxygen  from  the  air  contained  in  the 
water,  as  animals  with  lungs  derive  it  immediately  from  the 
atmosphere.  Fish  discharge  the  water  through  the  bronchial 
openings,  and  thus  their  expiration  and  inspiration  are  per- 
formed through  different  passages.  The  heart  of  fish  is  very 
small  in  proportion  to  the  body.  Its  structure  is  simple,  con- 
sisting of  a  single  auricle  and  ventricle,  which  correspond 
with  the  right  side  of  the  heart  in  warm-blooded  animals. 
The  ventricle  gives  rise  to  a  single  arterial  trunk,  going 
straight  forward  to  the  branchiae,  whence  the  blood  passes 
into  a  large  artery,  analogous  to  the  aorta,  which  goes  along 
the  spine,  and  supplies  the  body  of  the  animal.  It  is  returned 
by  the  vence  caves  into  the  auricle. 


FORM    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS.  59 

The  temperature  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  water  is  nearly 
the  same  with  that  of  the  element  in  which  they  reside ;  and 
fish  need  less  air  than  hot-blooded  animals.  Still  they  need 
a  certain  portion  of  air,  and  soon  expire  under  the  exhausted 
receiver  of  an  air-pump.  Berzelius,*  indeed,  has  stated  that 
a  fish  may  continue  alive  for  several  days  in  water  which  is 
void  of  air,  and  that  it  cannot  be  observed  that  the  least  de- 
composition of  the  water  has  taken  place  by  its  respiration. 
But  he  has  not  told  us  whether  he  means  to  assert  that  this 
takes  place  under  the  exhausted  receiver  of  an  air-pump,  or 
only  when  there  is  a  free  communication  between  the  water 
and  the  atmosphere.  A  fish  lives  in  a  narrow-mouthed  ves- 
sel filled  with  water,  so  long  as  the  communication  with  the 
external  air  remains  open ;  but  soon  dies  if  that  communica- 
tion be  completely  shut  up.  If  a  hole  be  broken  in  a  frozen 
lake,  the  fish  quickly  repair  to  the  place.  Hence,  in  winter, 
the  North  American  Indians,  when  their  provisions  fail, 
break  a  hole  in  the  ice,  and  commonly  succeed  in  obtaining 
a  fresh  supply  by  fishing. t 

As  fish  have  no  lungs,  so  we  have  already  seen  their  heart 
has  only  one  auricle  and  one  ventricle.  Now,  the  heart  did 
not  create  the  respiratory  organs,  nor  did  the  respiratory  or- 
gans form  the  heart ;  yet  they  are  evidently  adapted  to  each 
other.  Many  fishes  are  provided  with  a  siviinming  bladder 
[PI.  XIV.  fig.  3.],  which  lies  close  to  the  back-bone,  and  has 
a  strong  muscular  coat.  The  fish  can  either  contract  or  di- 
late this  bladder,  and,  rendering  itself  specifically  lighter  or 
heavier,  can  descend  or  ascend  at  pleasure.  Flounders,  and 
some  other  fishes,  which  want  this  bladder,  are  always  found 
grovelling  at  the  bottom  of  the  water.  This,  however,  is  not 
universally  the  case;  for  fishes  of  the  cartilaginous  kind  want 
air  bladders,  and  yet  they  easily  rise  to  the  top  or  sink  to  the 
bottom;  and  although  most  of  the  eel  kind  have  air  bladders, 
yet  they  cannot  raise  themselves  in  the  water  without  difficul- 
ty. It  is  probable,  therefore,  that  this  bladder  serves  other 
purposes  in  the  economy  of  the  fish  besides  enabling  it  to 
rise  and  sink  in  the  water. 

*  At  present  professor  of  chemistry  and  of  pharmacy,  secretary  of  the  Royal 
Academy  of  Sciences  at  Stockholm.  The  king-  of  Sweden,  Charles  XtV. 
(Bernadotte),  has  made  him  a  nobleman.  He  has  enriched  the  science  of 
chemistry  by  many  important  discoveries  and  profound  and  elaborate  works. 
He  is  tiie  first  chemical  analyst  of  the  age,  and  has  distinguished  himself  par- 
ticularly by  researches  into  the  laws  of  definite  proportions.  Most  of  his  works 
have  been  translated  into  French  and  English.  He  was  bora  at  Linkioping,  in 
East  Gothland,  1779. 

t  River  water  has  rather  less  than  -jJg-  of  its  bulk  of  air.  This  air  contains 
about  -j^lj.  of  oxygen  j  from  -^-^  to  -J^^g-  carbonic  acid  :  the  remainder  is 
nitrogen. 


60  FORM    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS. 

The  natatory  bladder  is  largest  in  such  fishes  as  swim 
with  considerable  velocity.  It  is  wanting  in  flat  fishes,  where 
the  large  lateral  fins  supply  its  place,  and  in  the  shark,  where 
its  absence  is  compensated  by  the  size  and  strength  of  the 
tail.  It  does  not  exist  in  the  lamprey,  which  possesses  none 
of  these  compensations ;  and  therefore  it  creeps  slowly  at  the 
bottom  of  the  water.  In  fresh-water  fishes,  the  air  bladder, 
according  to  Erman's  experiments,  contains  nitrogen  gas 
mixed  with  varying  proportions  of  oxygen  gas;  but  this  last 
is  never  found  in  it  in  the  same  proportion  as  in  atmospheric 
air.  Biot*  found  that,  in  salt-water  fishes,  it  contained  oxy-' 
gen  gas,  increasing  in  proportion  as  the  fish  was  in  the  habit 
of  living  at  a  great  depth. t  This  bladder  communicates 
generally  with  the  oesophagus,  and  sometimes  with  the 
stomach.  The  whale  tribe,  and  the  web-footed  mammalia, 
which  breathe  by  lungs,  must  often  rise  to  the  surface  for  the 
purpose  of  respiration. 

Some  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  water  present  a  singular 
appearance.  Their  bones,  instead  of  being  placed  internally, 
form  their  exterior  covering.  They  stand  low  in  the  scale  of 
animal  existence ;  but  even  in  them  we  see  a  wise  and  g^ra- 
cious  provision  for  the  preservation  of  the  creature.  The 
muscle,  for  instance,  has  a  locomotive  power  :  on  looking  at 
it,  we  should  be  apt  to  imagine  that  it  would  be  the  sport  of 
the  waves,  and  be  dashed  to  pieces  against  the  rocks  in  a 
storm.  It,  however,  has  the  power  of  securing  itself  against 
this  danger,  and  of  providing  for  its  safety,  by  forming  cer- 
tain viscous  threads,  about  two  inches  long,  by  means  of 
which  it  firmly  attaches  itself  to  the  rock,  as  by  a  cable  and 
anchor.  Upwards  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  of  these  cables  are 
sometimes  employed  in  mooring  a  single  muscle.  Here  we 
see  means  of  preservation  well  adapted  to  the  state  and  cir- 
cumstances of  the  animal. 

4.  In  the  different  classes  of  animals  there  is  a  wonderful 
adaptation  of  the  organs  of  sense  to  the  structure  of  the  rest 
of  the  body,  and  to  the  animal's  peculiar  manner  of  life.  Of 
this  I  shall  take  the  eye  as  an  example. 

All  animals  have  two  eyes :  some  insects  have  more.  [PI. 
XVI.  fig.  8,  9.]     In  man,  the  eyes  are  directed  forwards, 

*  A  distinguished  natural  philosopher  and  astronomer,  born  at  Paris,  1774. 
His  works,  published  in  1816,  are  very  valuable  contributions  to  science,  as 
are  his  occasional  communications  in  the  literary  journals  of  France.  His  dis- 
coveries in  acoustics  are  both  curious  and  valuable. 

t  I?ctvveen  the  tropics,  Humboldt  found  in  the  natatory  bladder  of  the  flying 
fish  0.94  nitrogen,  0.04  oxygen,  0.02  carbonic  acid.  Some  fish  inhabiting  the 
lower  strata  of  the  ocean  have  as  much  as  0.92  of  oxygen  in  llicir  air  blaclder. 
—Humboldt,  Personal  Narrative,  v.  ii.  p.  IG. 


FORM    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS.  0^1 

harmonizing  with  the  form  and  articulations  of  the  upper 
and  lower  extremities,  and  with  the  configuration  of  the 
whole  body.  In  most  of  the  inferior  animals,  the  eye  has  an 
oblique  direction.  The  simiae  and  the  owl  look  straight  for- 
ward. The  motions  of  the  human  eye  are  performed  by  six 
muscles :  quadrupeds  have  a  seventh,  named,  from  its  office, 
the  suspensory  muscle.  It  sustains  the  weight  of  the  globe 
of  the  eye,  and  prevents  the  optic  nerve  from  being  too  much 
stretched,  when  the  animal  is  obliged  to  hold  its  eyes  in  a 
hanging  posture,  and  to  look  downwards  in  choosing  and 
gathering  its  food.  In  man,  on  account  of  his  erect  posture, 
this  muscle  is  not  needed,  and  in  the  human  subject  it  is  not 
found ;  but  to  quadrupeds,  by  reason  of  their  prone  posture, 
it  is  of  great  utility,  and  they  are  provided  with  it.  Now,  the 
suspensory  muscle  does  not  occasion  the  prone  posture  of  the 
animal,  and  the  prone  posture  does  not  create  the  suspensory 
muscle,  for  it  comes  into  the  world  with  the  quadruped  ;  yet 
the  one  is  adapted  to  the  other.  Is  there  not  design,  yea, 
benevolent  design  and  skilful  contrivance,  in  this  adaptation? 

Many  animals,  but  especially  birds,  whose  eyes  are  much 
exposed  to  injury  in  passing  through  woods  and  thickets, 
are  provided  with  a  somewhat  transparent  covering  for  the 
eye, called  the nitiitating membrane.  [PI.  III.  fig.  2,  3,  4,  5.] 
It  admits  as  many  rays  as  render  objects  visible,  and  pro- 
tects the  organ  of  vision  in  circumstances  of  danger.  It 
screens  the  eye  when  the  bird  is  flying  directly  against  the 
rays  of  the  sun;  and  by  means  of  it,  according  to  Cuvier,* 
the  eagle  is  enabled  to  look  at  that  luminary.  It  also  serves 
to  cleanse  the  cornea — an  operation  which  man  can  perform 
with  his  hand.  It  is  drawn  over  the  globe  of  the  eye  b)*  the 
combined  action  of  two  very  singular  muscles,  which  are 
fitted  for  the  purpose  with  much  mechanical  skill. 

The  eyes  offish,  being  much  exposed  to  danger  in  the  in- 
constant element  in  which  they  reside,  always  have  a  cuti- 
cle, or  firm  pellucid  membrane  over  them.  Indeed,  their 
eyes  differ,  in  several  respects,  from  those  of  other  animals, 
and  are  wonderfully  accommodated  to  the  medium  in  which 
fish  exist.     The  vitreous  humor  is  very  small,  and  the  aque- 

*  A  peer  of  France,  perpetual  secretary  of  the  Aca^lcmy  of  Sciences,  pro- 
fessor of  natural  history  in  the  Colleg-e  of  France,  and  the  first  naturalist  of 
the  age.  He  was  born  in  Wurlemburg-,  1769 — a  j'ear  remarkable  as  the  natal 
year  of  Napoleon,  Welling^ton,  Ney,  Chateaubriand,  Humboldt,  Casliereagh, 
and  several  other  illustrious  names.  His  library  was  purchased  by  the  French 
government  for  72,000  fr.  Almost  all  the  learned  societies  in  the  world  have 
sent  Cuvier  honorary  diplomas.  The  Cabinet  of  Comparative  Anatomy,  found- 
ed by  him,  affords  the  finest  osteological  collection  in  Europe.  He  died  at 
Paris,  May  13,  1834. 

6 


b»  FORM    OF    THE    INFERIOR   ANIMALS. 

ous  sometimes  scarcely  perceptible.  The  water,  in  a  great 
measure,  supplies  the  place  of  those  two  humors  ;  but,  that 
refraction  may  be  duly  carried  on,  and  vision  accomplished, 
the  crystalline  is  very  large,  almost  spherical,  and  more  dense 
than  in  terrestrial  animals.  In  birds  these  circumstances 
are  reversed ;  they  are  often  in  a  somewhat  elevated  region 
of  the  atmosphere,  and  the  rays  which  pass  through  that  rare 
medium  are  refracted  by  the  aqueous  humor,  which,  in  birds, 
is  of  a  large  size.  Man,  and  the  mammalia,  living  on  the 
surface  of  the  earth,  hold  a  middle  place  between  these  two 
extremes.  The  tapetum,  or  mucus  which  lines  the  poste- 
rior surface  of  the  iris,  the  ciliary  processes,  and  part  of  the 
tunica  choroides,  is  of  different  colors  in  different  kinds  of 
animals ;  and  in  each  it  is  admirably  fitted  to  the  creature's 
manner  of  life.  White  reflects  the  rays  of  light ;  black  ab- 
sorbs them.  Accordingly  the  tapetum  is  either  white,  or  of 
some  vivid  color  which  reflects  the  light  strongly,  in  those 
animals  which  seek  their  prey  by  night.  The  cat  and  the 
owl  have  the  tapetum  whitish,  and  the  pupil  capable  of  much 
contraction  and  dilatation.  On  the  other  hand,  the  tapetum 
of  birds,  in  general,  but  especially  of  eagles,  hawks,  and  other 
birds  of  prey,  is  black ;  by  which  means  they  are  enabled  to 
see  with  the  greatest  distinctness,  but  only  in  clear  day  light. 
Man  is  designed  to  labor  chiefly  by  day,  and  his  tapetum  is 
neither  so  black  as  that  of  birds,  nor  so  white  as  that  of  those 
animals  which  make  the  greatest  use  of  their  eyes  in  the 
dark.  Animals  which  are  much  under  ground,  as  the  mole 
and  the  shrew,  have  the  eyes  very  small.  In  the  former  of 
these,  its  existence  has  been  altogether  denied ;  and  it  is  not, 
m  fact,  larger  than  a  pin's  head.  In  some  reptiles,  the  com- 
mon integuments  form,  instead  of  eye-lids,  a  kind  of  firm 
window,  behind  which  the  eyeball  has  a  free  motion. 

5.  Quadrupeds  are  divided  into  the  carnivorous  and  the 
herbivorous.  As  their  food  is  different,  so  a  difference  in 
the  teeth  indicates  the  class  to  which  the  animal  belongs. 
As  the  teeth  of  the  graminivorous,  particularly  of  the  rumi- 
nating kinds,  are  more  constantly  employed  than  those  of  the 
carnivorous  kinds,  so  they  are  more  thoroughly  provided  with 
enamel.  There  is  also  a  considerable  difference  in  the  ar- 
ticulations of  the  jaws  of  quadrupeds.  In  ihafercc,  the  artic- 
ulation admits  only  of  the  hinge  movement;  but  in  the  her- 
bivorous quadrupeds,  particularly  in  the  ruminating  kinds, 
the  articulation  admits  of  a  very  free  lateral  motion.  Here 
there  is  an  obvious  correspondence  between  the  form  and  the 
habits  of  the  animal. 


fORM    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS.  63 

,  There  is  a  striking  relation  between  the  teeth,  and  the 
other  instruments  of  mastication,  and  the  stomach.  The 
sheep,  deer,  and  ox  tribes,  are  destitute  of  fore  teeth  in  the 
upper  jaw;  but  the  trituration  of  their  food  is  completed  by 
rumination.  The  horse  and  ass  do  not  chew  the  cud,  but 
they  are  provided  with  suitable  teeth  in  the  upper  jaw  for 
masticating  the  food  and  preparing  it  for  the  action  of  the 
gastric  juice.  The  gastric  juice  of  ruminating  animals  does 
not  perform  its  specific  operation  upon  the  food  till  the  cud 
has  been  chewed ;  and  the  animal  seems  to  have  as  much 
gratification  in  chewing  the  cud  as  in  pasturing.  It  then 
appears  to  be  in  a  state  of  the  most  tranquil  enjoyment. 

Birds  have  no  teeth ;  but  the  herbivorous  and  graminiv- 
orous kinds  are  furnished  with  the  gizzard,  a  powerful  instru- 
ment for  grinding  the  food,  and  preparing  it  for  the  action  of 
the  gastric  juice.  This  juice  does  not  act  on  the  unbroken 
grain,  but  the  animal  is  provided  with  the  means  of  grinding 
it.  Now,  the  gizzard  did  not  form  the  bill  of  the  bird,  nor  did 
the  bill  give  existence  to  the  gizzard ;  yet  they  are  exactly 
fitted  to  each  other.  Teeth  and  a  gizzard  are  not  found 
together. 

Instead  of  extending  these  remarks,  I  shall  close  this  sec- 
tion by  inserting  some  of  the  conclusions  of  Cuvier,  so  dis- 
tinguished by  his  knowledge  in  comparative  anatomy.  "  Ev- 
ery organized  individual,"  says  he,  "  forms  an  entire  system 
of  its  own,  all  the  parts  of  which  must  mutually  correspond 
and  concur  to  produce  a  certain  definite  purpose,  by  recipro- 
cal reaction,  or  by  combining  towards  the  same  end.  Hence 
none  of  these  separate  parts  can  change  their  forms  without 
a  corresponding  change  in  the  other  parts  of  the  same  animal, 
and,  consequently,  each  of  their  parts  taken  separately  indi- 
cates all  the  other  parts  to  which  it  has  belonged.  Thus,  if 
the  viscera  of  an  animal  are  so  organized  as  to  be  fitted  for 
the  digestion  of  recent  flesh  only,  it  is  also  requisite  that  the 
jaws  should  be  so  constructed  as  to  fit  them  for  devouring 
prey ;  the  claws  must  be  constructed  for  seizing  and  tearing 
it  to  pieces;  the  teeth  for  cutting  and  dividing  its  flesh; 
the  entire  system  of  the  limbs,  or  organs  of  motion,  for  pur- 
suing and  overtaking  it ;  and  the  organs  of  sense  for  discov- 
ering it  at  a  distance.  The  shape  and  structure  of  the  teeth 
regulate  the  forms  of  the  condyle,  of  the  shoulder-blade,  and 
of  the  claws;  so  that  a  claw,  a  shoulder-blade,  a  condyle,  a 
leg  or  arm  bone,  or  any  other  bone  separately  considered, 
enables  us  to  discover  the  description  of  teeth  to  which  they 
have  belonged ;  and  so  also  reciprocally  we  may  determine 


64  CLOTHING    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS. 

the  forms  of  the  other  bones  from  the  teeth.  Thus,  com- 
mencing our  investigations  by  a  careful  survey  of  any  one 
bone  by  itself,  a  person  who  is  sufficiently  master  of  the  laws 
of  organic  structure  may,  as  it  were,  reconstruct  the  whole 
animal  to  which  that  bone  had  belonged.  The  smallest  frag- 
ment of  bone,  even  the  most  apparently  insignificant  apophy- 
sis, possesses  a  fixed  and  determinate  character,  relative  to 
the  class,  order,  genus,  and  species,  of  the  animal  to  which 
it  belonged  ;  insomuch  that,  when  we  find  merely  the  extrem- 
ity of  a  well-preserved  bone,  we  are  able,  by  careful  exam- 
ination, assisted  by  analogy  and  exact  comparison,  to  deter- 
mine the  species  to  which  it  once  belonged  as  certainly  as  if 
we  had  the  entire  animal  before  us." 

II.  The  clothing  of  the  inferior  animals  is  completely 
adapted  to  the  climate  which  they  inhabit,  and  to  the  dif- 
ferent seasons  of  the  year.  In  Kamtschatka,  Lapland,  and 
the  higher  latitudes  of  North  America,  they  are  clothed  with 
thick  and  warm  furs;  but  in  tropical  climates  they  are  al- 
most naked. 

The  musk-ox,  a  native  of  high  latitudes,  is  provided  in 
winter  with  a  thick  and  fine  wool,  or  fur,  which  grows  at  the 
root  of  the  long  hair,  and  shelters  him  from  the  intense  cold 
to  which  he  is  exposed  in  that  season.  But  as  the  summer 
advances,  this  fur  loosens  from  the  skin,  and  by  the  animal's 
frequent  rolling  himself  on  the  ground,  it  works  out  to  the 
end  of  the  hair,  and  in  due  time  drops  off,  leaving  little  for 
summer  clothing  except  the  long  hair.  As  the  warm  weath- 
er is  of  short  duration  in  those  high  latitudes,  the  new  fleece 
begins  to  appear  almost  as  soon  as  the  old  one  drops  off,  so 
that  he  is  again  provided  with  a  winter  dress  before  the  cold 
becomes  intense.  The  clothing  is  suited  to  the  season. 
Where  are  the  animals  found  which  furnish  materials  for  the 
fur  trade  ?  Not  within  the  tropics ;  but  in  countries  border- 
ing on  the  Arctic  circle.  The  elephant  is  a  native  of  hot 
climates,  and  he  goes  naked.  Rein-deer  abound  in  Lapland 
and  in  the  vicinity  of  Hudson's  Bay,  and  they  have  a  coat  of 
strong,  dense  hair.  The  white  bear  is  found  on  the  coast  of 
Greenland,  and  his  shaggy  covering  is  suited  to  that  high 
iaiitude.  In  a  word,  if  we  pass  from  the  equator  to  Spitz- 
bergen  and  Nova  Zembla,  we  shall  find  in  all  the  interme- 
diate degrees,  that  the  clothing  of  quadrupeds  is  suited  to 
their  climate,  and  accommodates  itself  to  the  season  of  the 
year. 

Man  is  the  only  unclothed  animal  in  all  countries ;  and  he 
is  the  only  creature  qualified  to  provide  clothing  for  himself. 


CLOTHING    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS.  65 

and  to  accommodate  that  clothing  to  every  climate,  and  to 
all  the  variety  of  the  seasons.  In  this,  as  in  every  other  re- 
spect, his  condition  is  suited  to  his  nature,  as  a  being  whose 
improvement  and  happiness  are  promoted  by  labor  of  body 
and  exercise  of  mind. 

If  we  pass  to  the  clothing  of  birds,  we  still  find  benevolent 
contrivance,  suited  to  the  circumstances  and  providing  for 
the  welfare  of  the  animal.  This  clothing  consists  of  feathers, 
which  are  very  bad  conductors  of  heat,  and  which  conse- 
quently permit  the  heat  of  the  animal  to  pass  olT  very  slowly 
into  the  circumambient  medium.  The  feathers  are  so  in- 
serted into  the  skin  as  naturally  to  lie  backwards  from  the 
head,  and  to  lap  over  each  other,  like  tiles  on  a  roof,  allowing 
the  rain  to  run  off.*  When  the  head  of  the  bird  is  turned 
towards  the  wind,  the  feathers  are  not  discomposed  by  the 
most  violent  storm.  There  is  in  birds  a  large  gland,  which 
secretes  an  oily  substance ;  and  when  the  feathers  are  too 
dry,  or  any  way  disordered,  the  bird  squeezes  the  oil  out  of 
this  gland,  and  dresses  them  with  it.  Thus  the  admission  of 
water  is  prevented  ;  and  the  bird,  by  means  of  its  feathers,  is 
sheltered  both  from  cold  and  rain.  Water-fowls  have  their 
breast  covered  with  warm  and  soft  clothing,  suited  to  their 
circumstances.  The  eider-duck  abounds  on  the  coasts  of 
Iceland  ;  and  the  warmth  of  eider-down  is  well  known. 
While  the  feathers  of  birds  thus  preserve  them  from  cold, 
they  are  also  a  sort  of  defensive  armor,  and  excellent  instru- 
ments of  motion. t 

The  temperature  of  fish  is  not  much  above  that  of  the  me- 
dium in  which  they  reside ;  and  they  have  not,  in  general, 
any  great  occasion  for  warm  clothing.  Nevertheless,  they 
are  provided  with  a  scaly  coat  of  mail,  and  are  covered  with 
a  slimy  and  glutinous  matter,  w^hich  not  only  defends  their 
bodies  from  the  immediate  contact  of  the  surrounding  fluid, 
but  probably  facilitates  their  motion  through  the  water  also. 
Under   the  scales,  and  before  we  come  to  the  muscular  part 

*  By  the  aid  of  the  microscope  it  appears  that  the  laminae  or  threads  of  feath- 
ers have,  on  their  outward  edge,  a  series  of  bristles,  set  in  pairs  opposite  one 
another,  which  clasp  with  the  bristles  of  the  contiguous  laminae.  This  is  the 
cause  of  the  surprising  adhesiveness  observable  in  the  feather  or  quill. 

The  bristles  are  not  of  the  same  form  on  each  side  of  one  lamina ;  the  lower 
tier  form  a  simple  and  slight  curve,  while  the  upper  terminate  with  three  or 
four  little  hooks,  which  serve  to  catch  the  simple  corresponding  bristle  of  the 
next  lamina. — Paleij. 

t  The  Elytra  or  homy  \vings  of  the  genus  scarabaeus,  or  L-eetle,  is  an  admi- 
rable contrivance,  furnishing  both  a  covering  and  a  protection  to  the  delicate 
gauze-like  wings  of  this  insect.  In  some,  the  elytra  envelop  the  whole  body  ; 
in  others,  only  a  small  part  of  it.  In  all,  they  form  an  entire  covering  for  the 
true  wings.     [PI.  XV.  fig.  1,  2.] 

6  * 


06  DEFENCE    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS. 

of  the  body,  we  meet  with  an  oily  substance,  which  contrib- 
utes to  the  preservation  of  the  requisite  warmth.  The  whale 
is  a  hot-blooded  animal,  and  resides  chiefly  in  polar  regions  ; 
but  he  is  wrapped  up  in  a  thick  coat  of  blubber,  which  is  a 
bad  conductor  of  caloric,  and  defends  him  from  the  cold. 
Other  inhabitants  of  the  water  in  high  latitudes,  as  the  walrus, 
enjoy  a  similar  security  against  the  rigor  of  the  element  to 
which  they  are  exposed.  Can  we  seriously  attend  to  the 
clothing  of  animals,  without  recognizing  in  it  the  hand  of  a 
wise  and  beneficent  First  Cause  1 

III.  Every  animated  being  is  endued  with  the  love  of  life, 
and  the  desire  of  self-preservation  ;  and  is  also  furnished  with 
the  means  of  acting  in  conformity  to  this  instinctive  princi- 
ple of  its  nature.  Every  animal  can  search  for  its  food,  and 
choose  what  is  proper  for  its  subsistence.  But,  at  present, 
I  shall  shortly  attend  to  the  means  which  different  animals 
possess  of  securing  themselves  against  danger,  and  of  de- 
fending themselves  from  their  enemies.  Every  animal  pos- 
sesses, in  a  certain  degree,  the  means  of  self-preservation, 
either  by  resistance  or  flight.  Some  animals  have  formidable 
instruments  of  offence  in  their  horns,  teeth,  claws,  hoofs,  or 
sting ;  others  trust  for  safety  to  the  swiftness  of  their  course, 
or  velocity  of  their  flight ;  and  some  defend  themselves  by 
emitting  a  repulsive  odor. 

In  gregarious  animals,  although  the  individual,  in  some 
instances,  is  weak  and  timid,  yet  the  herd  or  flock  can  as- 
sume an  imposing  attitude,  and  make  a  vigorous  defence. 
No  creatures  are  more  timid  and  defenceless  than  sheep, 
when  under  the  protection  of  man.  In  the  natural  state, 
however,  the  rams,  constituting  the  half  of  the  flock,  place 
themselves  in  battle  array  against  the  enemy,  and  dogs  can 
make  no  impression  upon  them.  Even  the  lion  or  tiger  is 
unable  to  resist  their  united  impetuosity  and  force  !  A  single 
goat  can  choose  his  position  on  the  rock,  and  set  the  dog  at 
defiance.  Horses  join  heads  together,  and  fight  with  their 
heels  ;  oxen  join  tails,  and  fight  with  their  horns ;  all  place 
their  young  in  the  centre,  that  they  may  be  safe  during  the 
battle.  In  perilous  cases,  elephants  march  in  troops  ;  the 
oldest  in  front,  the  young  and  feeble  in  the  centre,  those  of 
middle  age  and  mature  vigor  in  the  rear.  When  at  a  dis- 
tance from  danger,  they  travel  with  less  precaution,  never, 
however,  separatiniif  so  far  but  that  they  can  hear  one  anoth- 
er's cries,  and  afford  timely  assistance. 

The  mole  is  well-formed  for  digging  [PI.  XVI.  fig.  1.],  and 
escapes  from  its  pursuers  by  penetrating  into  the  earth  :  the 


DEFENCE    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS.  67 

hedge-hog  rolls  itself  up  in  a  prickly  envelope  :  the  hare  is 
well-fitted  for  running,  and  trusts  to  its  swiftness  for  safety. 
The  innocuous  lama,  which  uses  neither  feet  nor  teeth 
against  its  enemies,  is  not  destitute  of  means  of  defence.  It 
is  provided,  we  are  told,  with  an  acrimonious  saliva,  which, 
when  offended,  it  can  eject  to  the  distance  of  several  yards. 
This  saliva  occasions  troublesome  cutaneous  eruptions  where 
it  touches.*  The  viper  at  once  wounds  with  its  fang,  and 
injects  into  the  wound  the  deadly  poison.  [PL  XIV.  fig.  4, 
5.]  Some  animals  are  furnished  with  peculiar  glands  and 
bags  at  the  end  of  the  rectum,  which  secrete  and  contain  a 
remarkably  fetid  substance  ;  and  this  substance  the  animal 
can  at  pleasure  throw  out  against  its  pursuers.  The  zurilla, 
a  species  of  weasel  about  the  size  of  a  rabbit,  found  in  several 
parts  of  South  America,  emits,  when  angry,  such  a  pestilen- 
tial vapor  as  beats  off  the  most  formidable  adversary.  An- 
other inconveniency,  says  De  Pages,  which  awaits  the  travel- 
ler in  this  country  (between  St.  Antonio  and  Mexico),  is  the 
abominable  smell  of  an  animal,  without  the  agility,  but  near- 
ly of  the  size,  of  a  rabbit.  This  creature,  when  hardly 
pressed,  and  in  jeopardy  of  being  taken,  emits  a  most  intol- 
erable stench,  which  threatens  suffocation  to  his  pursuers, 
and  which  is  eluded  only  by  a  precipitate  flight.  The 
polecat  (Vivcrra  j/utorius),  when  pursued  or  irritated, 
forces  upon  its  pursuers  a  fluid  of  so  horrible  an  odor  that 
neither  man  nor  dog  can  endure  it.t 

*  Ulloa,  Voyage  au  Perou,  liv.  vi.  ch.  8.  Wilcock's  History  of  Buenos 
Ay  res,  p.  458. 

t  The  tusks  of  the  babyroufissa  [PI.  XVIII.  fig.  4.],  or /nc/ian  hog,  are  said  to 
be  contrived  as  a  means  of  defence  in  suspending  themselves  from  a  branch  of  a 
tree  during  the  period  of  their  repose,  out  of  the  reach  of  other  animals.  But 
"  there  does  not  seem  to  be  amj  sufficient  authority  for  ascribhig  this  use  to  the 
tusks  of  this  animal.  Indeed,  one  does  not  readily  see  how  it  could  in  the  ivay  rfe- 
scribed  swing  itself  clear  of  its  enemies,  except  by  frst  climbing  the  tree ;  which 
is  not  pretended.  The  fact  is  doubted, it  is  believed,  by  many  naturalists ;  and  the 
opinion  probably  was  in  the  frst  place  founded  upon  mere  conjecture.  A  modem 
and  distinguished  traveller  has  these  remarks  upon  the  subject.  '  Philosophers 
had  long  puzzled  themselves  in  conjectures  wliat  the  design  of  nature  could  be,  as 
she  does  nothing  witliout  design,  in  giving  to  this  animal  a  pair  of  large,  curved 
tusks,  pointing  inwards  to  the  face,  in  such  a  manner  as  made  it  sufficiently  clear 
they  could  not  be  used  either  for  attack  or  defence,  for  procuring  food,  or  for  as- 
sisting the  mastication  of  it  when  procured.  At  length  it  occurred,  or  was  dis- 
covered, by  whom.  I  do  not  recollect,  that  the  animal  is  fond  of  sleeping  in  a  stand- 
ing posture,  and  that,  having  a  large,  ponderous  head,  itfnds  a  conveniency  in 
hanging  it  upon  the  branch  of  a  tree  or  shrub  ivitliin  the  reach  of  its  tusks,  which 
serve  on  such  occasions  for  hooks.  This  is  at  least  an  ingenious  discovery,  and 
may  be  true ;  but  if  so,  tlie  habits  of  the  animal  must  vary  according  to  local  cir- 
cumstances. The  same  species,  or  one  so  like  it  that  the  difference  is  not  distin- 
guishable by  any  description  or  draioing  that  I  have  seen,  is  common  among  the 
rocks  on  the  deserts  of  Southern  Africa,  where,  within  tlie  distance  of  a  hundred 
miles,  there  is  neitlier  tree  nor  shrub,  except  aftw  stunted  Iieatlis  or  shrivelled  ever- 


68  DEFENCE    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANI3IALS. 

Birds,  by  their  different  ways  of  flying,  often  escape  from 
their  enemies.  If  the  pigeon  had  the  same  way  of  flying  as 
the  hawk,  it  could  scarcely  ever  escape  his  claws. 

If,  from  the  earth  and  the  air,  we  pass  to  the  ocean,  we 
shall  find  its  inhabitants  possessing,  in  like  manner,  means 
of  defence  and  safety.  The  cuttle-fish  [sepice),  when  closely 
pursued,  ejects  a  fluid  black  as  ink,  and  conceals  itself  and 
escapes  by  discoloring  the  water.  The  excretory  duct  is 
situated  on  or  near  the  liver.  The  fluid  itself  is  thick,  but 
so  miscible  with  water  that  a  small  quantity  of  it  discolors  a 
considerable  body  of  water.  According  to  Cuvier,  the  Indian 
ink  is  made  of  this  fluid.  Some  fishes  have  fins  so  large  and 
flexible,  that,  when  pursued,  they  can  spring  out  of  their  na- 
tive element,  and  dart  through  the  air  to  a  considerable  dis- 
tance.* 

Some  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  water  possess  peculiar 
means  of  defence,  by  giving  electrical  shocks.  The  elec- 
trical fluid  is  widely  diflused  in  nature  ;  and  seems  to  be 
lodged,  in  greater  or  less  quantities,  in  all  animals.  That 
there  is  a  considerable  portion  of  it  in  the  human  body  is 
evident.  Some  persons  are  naturally  so  much  electrified  as 
to  give  obvious  signs  of  the  presence  of  this  fluid,  when  a 
delicate  electrometer  is  applied  to  them  ;  and  if  their  hair  is 
combed,  when  they  are  placed  on  an  insulating  stool,  they 
emit  sparks.  But  only  a  very  few  animals  have  the  power 
of  giving  shocks.  So  far  as  is  at  present  known,  they  are 
all  of  the  aquatic  kind  ;  the  torpedo,  gymnotus  electricuSy 
and  silurus  electricus. 

This  property  of  the  torpedo  has  been  known  since  the 
days  of  Theophrastus.  It  has  the  power  of  giving  a  smart 
shock  to  the  person  who  touches  it.  According  to  Humboldt 
and  Guy  Lussac,  the  contact  must  be  immediate.  The  shock 
depends  on  the  will  of  the  animal,  which  must  be  irritated 
before  it  exerts  its  peculiar  power.  The  electrical  apparatus 
of  the  torpedo  has  some  resemblance  to  a  galvanic  trough, 
and  seems  to  act  in  a  similar  manner. 

The  gymnotus  electricus  is  a  species  of  eel  peculiar  to 
Surinam  river,  and  is  said  to  be  a  fresh-water  fish  only. 
When  of  the  largest  size,  it  is  about  four  feet  long,  and  fi-om 

lastings,  thinly  scattered  over  the  barren  surface.  In  such  situations,  where  I  have 
hinted  and  taken  them,  it  would  certainly  be  7io  easy  matter  for  the  babyrouessa  to 
find  a  peg  to  hang  its  head  upon.'  " — Barrow's  Voyage  to  Cochin-Chiua.  Dr. 
Ware. 

*  The  velocity  with  whicli  fish  swim  from  one  part  of  the  globe  to  another  is 
astonishing.  When  a  ship  is  sailing  at  the  rate  of  fourteen  miles  an  hour,  the 
porpoises  will  pass  it  with  as  much  ease  as  when  at  anchor. — Paxton. 


FOOD    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS.  C9 

ten  to  fourteen  inches  in  circumference  in  the  thickest  part 
of  the  body.  Its  electrical  power  is  greater  than  that  of  the 
torpedo.  It  gives  even  the  most  violent  shocks  without  any 
movement  of  the  head,  eyes,  or  fins.  But  when  the  torpedo 
gives  a  shock,  a  convulsive  motion  of  the  pectoral  fins  may 
be  observed. 

The  siluriis  electricus,  a  fish  about  twenty  inches  long, 
found  in  some  of  the  rivers  of  Africa,  gives  a  shock  like  the 
torpedo  and  gymnotus.  By  means  of  this  singular  power, 
these  animals  can  stun  their  adversaries  and  escape  by  flight. 

Insects  appear  a  feeble  race  ;  but  some  of  them  possess 
formidable  means  of  defence  and  annoyance.  Their  sting 
is  a  spear,  which  they  can  wield  with  dexterity  in  repelling 
aggression.  [PI.  XV.  fig.  5.]  The  fine  polish  of  this  little 
piece  of  armor  has  often  been  remarked,  and  adduced  as  an 
instance  of  the  difference  between  the  workmanship  of  the 
Creator  and  the  productions  of  art.  When  viewed  through 
a  microscope,  the  shape  of  the  finest  needle  seems  rough  and 
blunt ;  but  the  sting  of  a  bee,  when  examined  by  the  glass, 
is  seen  to  be  smooth  and  beautifully  polished.  The  first 
displays  all  its  beauties  to  the  naked  eye ;  the  instrument  re- 
veals its  deformities  :  but  the  beauty  of  the  last  appears  the 
more  conspicuous  the  more  narrowly  it  is  inspected.  In 
short,  every  animal  is  endued,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
with  the  means  of  self-preservation.  If  any  species  be  singu- 
larly exposed  to  danger,  it  has  the  advantage  of  some  great 
compensating  principle,  by  which  it  is  preserved  from  ex- 
tinction. Many  of  the  weaker  or  more  timid  animals  can 
elude  pursuit  by  the  rapidity  of  their  motions  :  some  are  very 
prolific,  and  can  bear  a  great  waste.  Here,  as  in  every  other 
department,  we  see  a  uniformity  of  plan,  which  can  only  be 
the  fruit  of  design  ;  and  such  an  adaptation  of  means  to  ends 
as  can  result  from  nothing  but  benevolent  intention. 

IV.  There  is  a  great  variety  in  the  tastes  and  appetites  of 
diflferent  kinds  of  animals  ;  and  there  is  a  corresponding 
variety  in  the  productions  of  the  earth.  There  seems  to  be 
nothing  in  the  wide  extent  of  the  vegetable  kingdom,  but 
what  will  yield  sustenance  to  animals  of  one  kind  or  other. 
Each  species  finds  food  agreeable  to  its  taste  and  proper  to 
its  nature,  and  animals  of  one  class  cannot  deprive  those  of 
another  of  their  means  of  subsistence.  According  to  Lin- 
naeus, tlie  hog  eats  72  kinds  of  vegetables ;  the  horse,  262  ; 
the  cow,  276  ;  the  sheep,  387 ;  and  the  goat,  449,  This  di- 
versity of  tastes,  with  the  corresponding  diversity  of  produc- 
tions, is  one  great  means  of  stocking  every  part  of  the  earth 


70  FOOD    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS. 

and  of  the  ocean  with  inhabitants.  Some  animals,  both  by 
sea  and  land,  are  found  only  in  certain  latitudes.  Some 
dwell  in  polar  regions;  others  chiefly  within  the  tropics; 
and  each  finds  its  peculiar  aliment  in  the  place  where  it 
resides. 

Animals  are  wonderfidly  fitted  for  discovering  their  means 
of  subsistence.  In  selecting  their  food,  they  rely  chiefly  on 
smelling  ;  and  this  sense  does  not  deceive  them.  They  easily 
distinguish  between  the  noxious  and  the  salutary,  avoiding 
the  one  and  feeding  on  the  other.  Some  animals,  such  as 
wolves  and  ravens,  discover  their  food  at  a  distance,  which, 
if  we  were  to  judge  from  our  own  sense  of  smelling,  would 
appear  altogether  incredible.  Others,  as  the  eagle,  the 
hawk,  and  the  gull,  have  an  amazingly  acute  eye ;  and, 
from  a  great  height,  perceive  mice,  birds,  and  other  objects 
of  prey. 

As  the  different  kinds  of  animals  are  admirably  qualified 
for  discovering  their  food,  so  they  are  well  formed  for  gather- 
ing or  seizing  it.  In  graminivorous  quadrupeds,  there  is  a 
remarkable  correspondence  between  the  length  of  the  legs 
and  that  of  the  neck.  We  do  not  find  a  very  short  neck  in 
connection  with  long  legs.  The  ox,  the  horse,  and  the 
sheep,  are  examples  of  the  proportions  of  those  different  parts 
of  the  body.  In  some  of  the  deer  kind,  indeed,  the  neck 
does  not  bear  the  same  proportion  to  the  legs  as  in  the  ani- 
mals now  mentioned  ;  but  they  obtain  their  food  chiefly  by 
browsing  on  the  branches  of  trees,  in  which  case  there  is  no 
need  for  a  length  of  neck  corresponding  to  the  legs.  They 
can  easily  pasture  on  an  ascent ;  and  Vaillant  assures  us  that 
even  the  giraffe,  the  most  remarkable  of  this  tribe,  is  able  to 
drink  from  a  stream,  the  surface  of  which  is  lower  than  the 
ground  on  which  he  stands.  The  short  neck  of  the  elephant 
is  remarkably  compensated  by  the  strong  and  flexible  pro- 
boscis.    [PI.  XVJ.  fig.  2,  3,  4,  5.] 

The  hooked  beak  of  the  parrot,  necessary  for  climbing  for 
food  or  for  protection,  is  singularly  inconvenient,  apparently, 
for  readily  taking  its  food.  The  compensation  is  remark- 
able. The  upper  mandible  is  joined  to  the  bone  of  the  head 
by  a  strong  membrane  placed  on  each  side  of  it,  and  not 
forming  one  piece  with  the  skull,  as  is  common  with  other 
birds.  By  this  contrivance  there  is  considerable  motion  al- 
lowed to  the  upper  mandible,  and  food  is  more  easily  received 
into  the  beak.     [PI.  XVI.  fig.  7.] 

The  hook  in  the  wing  of  a  bat  is  also  a  beautiful  instance 
of  a  compensating  contrivance.     [PI.  XVI.  fig.  6.] 


FOOD    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS.  71 

Monkeys  are  destined  to  live  on  trees  ;  and  their  four  pre- 
hensile members  enable  them  to  climb  with  the  greatest  facil- 
ity. The  tail  of  several  kinds  is  a  further  assistance  in  this 
way  of  life.  The  natural  food  of  swine  is  chiefly  the  roots  of 
plants  ;  and  they  have  a  snout  fitted  for  digging  up  the  earth. 
The  goat  is  formed  for  ascending  rocky  precipices,  to  crop 
the  leaves  of  those  herbs  and  plants  on  which  he  delights. 
The  squirrel  feeds  on  the  leaves  and  fruit  of  trees ;  and  he  is 
provided  with  feet  which  fit  him  for  climbing.  Woodpeckers 
have  strong,  wedge-like  bills,  for  piercing  the  bark  of  trees; 
and  they  are  provided  with  a  long,  slender  tongue,  armed 
with  a  sharp,  bony  point,  barbed  on  each  side,  which,  by 
means  of  a  curious  apparatus  of  muscles,  they  can  dart  out 
to  a  great  length  into  the  chinks  of  the  bark,  or  into  the 
holes  which  they  have  formed  with  their  bills,  in  order  to 
transfix  and  draw  out  the  insects  larking  there.  Their  legs 
and  feet  are  admirably  formed  for  climbing,  and  even  the 
tail  is  made  to  cooperate  for  the  same  purpose.  [1*1.  X^V^III. 
fig.  1,  2,  3.] 

The  tongue  of  the  chameleon  displays  a  very  curious  mech- 
anism. It  is  contiined  in  a  siieath  at  the  lower  part  of  the 
mouth,  and  has  its  extremity  covered  with  a  glutinous  secre- 
tion. It  admits  of  being  projected  to  the  length  of  six  inches 
from  the  mouth,  with  wonderful  celerity  and  precision  ;  and 
the  viscous  secretion  on  its  extremity  entangles  the  flies,  and 
other  similar  insects,  which  constitute  the  food  of  the  cha- 
meleon. [PI.  XIX.  fig.  1.]  Water-ibwls  feed  upon  fish, 
insects,  and  es^gs  of  fish ;  and  their  bills,  legs,  wings,  and 
whole  structure,  are  fitted  to  their  manner  of  life.*  The 
size  and  strength  of  the  wings  correspond  with  the  circum- 
stances of  the  different  kinds  of  fowls.  Birds  of  prey, 
which  must  often  seek  their  food  at  a  distance,  have  large 
and  strong  wings ;  but  in   domestic  birds,  which  can  find 

*  The  bill  of  the  common  duck  is  too  remarkably  fitted  for  procuring'  its 
food,  to  be  passed  over  in  silence.  The  upper  mandible  is  furnished  wiih  larg-e 
nerves,  which  extend  to  the  extremity  of  the  bill.  By  this  means  it  readily  dis- 
tinguishes its  favorite  food  in  the  mud,  where  it  is  fond  of  seeking-  it,  and  by 
which,  also,  the  gratification  of  eating-  is  increased.     [PI.  XI V.  fig-.  1.] 

"  There  is  a  remarkable  contrivance  of  this  kind  in  the  genus  balcena,  or 
proper  whale.  Numerous  parallel  plates  of  the  substance  called  whalebone 
cover  the  palatine  surface  of  the  upper  jaw,  and  descend  vertically  into  the 
mouth:  the  lower  edges  are  fringed  by  long  fibres,  which  serve  the  animal, 
when  taking  in  the  water,  to  retain  the  molluscae  with  which  the  water  abounds, 
and  which  constitute  its  food." — Pa.rton. 

The  middle  claw  of  the  heron  and  cormorant  is  serrated,  the  more  easily  to 
hold  their  slippery  prey.  The  soland  goose  also  has  its  bill  serrated  for  the 
same  purpose.     [PI.  X'X.  fig.  1,  2.]  Ed. 


72  ADAPTATIONS    OP    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS. 

nourishment  almost  every  where,  the  wings  are  short  and 
small. 

Were  we  to  run  over  the  organs  of  all  animals  for  pro- 
curing their  food  and  seizing  their  prey,  from  the  trunk  of 
the  elephant  to  the  proboscis  of  the  bee  and  butterfly 
[PI.  XV.  fig  6,  &  8.],  we  should  every  where  meet  with  the 
most  astonishing  adaptations  and  displays  of  the  most 
consummate  mechanical  skill.  We  see  a  vast  variety  of 
food  provided  ;  a  corresponding  variety  of  tastes  for  en- 
joying it ;  and  all  animals  furnished  in  one  way  or  other 
with  organs  for  taking  possession  of  it.  And  is  this  vast, 
various,  and  complicated   system  the   work  of  chance  ?     Is 

not  design, are  not  wisdom  and  goodness  obvious  in  the 

provision  made  for  the  sustenance  of  the  different  kinds  of 
animals,  in  correspondence  to  their  different  tastes  and  appe- 
tites ?  The  food  does  not  form  the  taste ;  but  the  taste  di- 
rects to  the  use  of  the  food.  Some  animals  could  not  live 
on  that  which  is  grateful  to  the  palate  of  others  ;  and  al- 
though the  animal,  in  a  number  of  instances,  might  support 
a  lingering  existence  on  the  food  which  it  does  not  choose, 
yet,  in  these  cases,  it  would  neither  attain  the  vigor  of  its 
nature,  nor  the  usual  term  of  its  life.  According  to  all  our 
conceptions,  nothing  but  a  designing  Being  could  have  fur- 
nished provisions  suitable  to  the  nature  of  every  animal, 
and  formed  each  animal  with  fit  organs  for  gathering  that 
provision. 

V.  In  many  instances  we  find  surprising  adaptations  of 
animals  to  peculiar  circumstances.  Under  this  head,  I  shall 
confine  my  observations  to  the  camel  and  the  rein-deer  ;  the 
one  a  native  of  the  arid  plains  in  the  warm  and  temperate 
regions  of  Asia  and  Africa  ;  the  other  an  inhabitant  of  high 
latitudes.  The  camel  is  found  in  warm  climates,  and  on 
parched  and  sandy  plains  ;  and  the  structure  of  his  body,  and 
his  habits,  are  accommodated  to  the  circumstances  in  which 
he  is  placed.  In  the  regions  which  he  inhabits,  the  earth  is 
seldom  refreshed  with  showers;  and,  in  many  cases,  only  a 
few  stunted  shrubs  or  herbs  appear  in  the  midst  of  the  sandy 
wilderness,  or  around  the  wells  which  are  thinly  scattered  in 
the  desert.  In  this  situation,  his  place  could  not  be  supplied 
to  man  by  any  other  animal.     "  The  sand,"    says  Denon,* 

*  A  celebrated  traveller  and  eng^raver.  He  accompanied  Napoleon  in  his 
campaigns  into  Italy  and  Egypt ;  and  has  g-iven  descriptions  and  representa- 
tions of  scenery,  and  events  connected  with  his  travels,  which  gained  him  a 
high  reputation.     He  died  at  Paris,  April  28,  1823,  aged  78. 


ADAPTATIONS    OP   THE    INFERIOR   ANIMALS.  73 

"  is  truly  his  element ;  for  as  soon  as  he  quits  it  and  touches 
the  mud,  he  can  hardly  keep  upon  his  feet,  and  his  constant 
trips  alarm  the  rider  for  his  own  safety  and  that  of  his  bag- 
gage." His  rough  and  spongy  soles  are  excellently  fitted 
for  traversing  the  ocean  of  sand  :  they  do  not  crack  with 
the  heat. 

Besides  the  four  stomachs  common  to  ruminating  animals, 
the  camel  is  furnished  with  a  fifth,  which  serves  as  a  reser- 
voir for  containing  water.  [PI.  XXI.]  It  is  peculiar  to 
this  animal,  and  is  so  capacious  that,  according  to  Bruce,*  it 
can  contain  water  sufficient  to  serve  him  for  thirty  days. 
Russell, t  in  his  Natural  History  of  Aleppo,  mentions  a  Bas- 
sora  caravan,  in  which  the  camels  remained  fifteen  days 
without  water;  but  he  adds,  that  the  Aleppo  and  Bassora  cara- 
vans are  seldom  more  than  three  or  four  days  without  find- 
ing wells ;  although,  at  times,  when  obliged  to  leave  the  com- 
mon track,  the  camels  suffer  an  abstinence  of  six  or  seven 
days.  The  fifth  stomach  preserves  the  water  in  a  state  of 
perfect  purity  and  limpidity,  without  permitting  any  part  of 
the  aliment,  or  of  the  fluids  of  the  body,  to  mix  with  it.  In 
traversing  the  vast  burning  deserts,  which  without  his  aid  no 
human  power  could  pass,  when  the  camel  is  pressed  with 
thirst,  or  has  occasion  for  water  to  macerate  his  dry  food  in 
ruminating,  he  makes  part  of  the  water  mount  into  his 
paunch,  or  even  as  high  as  the  oesophagus,  by  the  contrac- 
tion of  certain  muscles.  His  stomachs  are  possessed  of  a 
peculiar  sensibility,  by  which  each  opens  to  receive  the  food 
proper  to  it.     He  scents  a  pool  of  water  half  a  league  off". 

As  the  camel  is  fitted  for  marching  through  the  arid  wil- 
derness, so  he  can  pass  over  the  most  barren  region.  He 
can  subsist  and  toil  on  a  very  small  quantity  of  food,  and 
that  of  the  coarsest  kind,  such  as  wormwood,  thistles,  broom, 
thorny  shrubs,  and  other  similar  fare.  When  even  this 
rough  aliment  cannot  be  obtained,  he  can  subsist  on  a  few 
pounded  dates,  or  some  small  paste-balls  of  bean  or  barley 
meal.  With  a  single  pound  of  such  food  in  a  day,  he  can 
travel,  for  weeks  together,  upwards  of  30  miles  a  day,  un- 
der a  load  of  750  or  800  pounds.  As  he  is  so  surprisingly 
fitted  for  passing  parched   and  burning  deserts,   in  which, 

*  A  famous  traveller,  descended  from  the  ancient  race  of  Scottish  king's.  He 
devoted  many  years  in  examining  the  antiquities,  the  manners,  and  institu- 
tions of  the  "Abyssinians,  a  people  then  (1769)  known  to  Europeans  only  by 
name.     He  died  from  an  accidental  fall,  1794,  aet.  65. 

t  Ph3'sician  to  the  English  factory  at  Aleppo,  and  aftervi'ards  of  St.  Thomas* 
hospital,  London.  His  History  of  Aleppo  is  a  valuable  work,  and  has  been 
translated  into  several  languages.     He  died,  1768. 

7 


74  ADAPTATIONS    OF    THE    INFERIOR    ANIMALS. 

without  his  aid,  man  must  inevitably  perish,  he  is  by  the 
Arabs  emphatically  styled  the  ship  of  the  desert.  He  is 
the  great  medium  of  commerce  in  the  regions  which  he 
inhabits;  and  without  him  the  wilderness  would  be  alto- 
gether impassable. 

The  Arabs  subsist  on  the  milk  of  the  female,  in  the  dif- 
ferent forms  of  curds,  cheese,  and  butter ;  and  they  often 
feed  on  its  flesh.  They  make  slippers  or  harness  of  its  skin, 
and  tents  and  clothing  of  its  hair.  When  alive,  this  animal 
is  the  treasure  and  support  of  its  master ;  and,  even  when 
dead,  contributes  to  his  accommodation  and  comfort.  Here, 
then,  we  have  an  unsightly,  but  inoffensive  and  docile  animal, 
of  peculiar  conformation  and  habits  ;  and  that  conformation 
and  those  habits  admirably  adapted  to  the  physical  state  of 
those  countries  where  he  is  found.  And  will  the  atheist 
allege  that  the  sands  and  heat  of  the  wilderness  formed  the 
spongy  hoof  and  the  fifth  stomach  of  the  camel,  and  endued 
him  with  the  singular  patience  of  hunger  and  thirst ;  or  that 
the  spongy  hoof  and  water-bag  of  the  camel  created  the  vast 
sandy  plain,  and  planted  the  stunted  thorn  in  the  desert? 
No  sober  man  will  attach  the  least  credit  to  such  allega- 
tions ;  for  here  we  see  an  adaptation  plainly  indicative  of 
mind,  and  which  could  only  originate  from  a  wise  and  be- 
nevolent First  Cause. 

But,  leaving  the  parched  deserts  between  the  Euphrates 
and  the  Gambia,  let  us  turn  our  eye  to  the  arctic  regions  of 
America,  to  the  mountains  of  Lapland,  or  to  the  wilds  of 
Siberia  :  there  we  meet  with  an  animal  almost  as  useful  as 
the  camel,  and  perceive  a  striking  adaptation  in  the  rein-deer. 
This  animal  is  a  treasure  to  the  Laplander.  In  winter,  it 
draws  his  sledge  with  great  rapidity  over  the  frozen  lakes, 
rivers,  and  snow-clad  mountains  of  his  country.  Two  of 
them  yoked  in  a  carriage  can  travel  a  hundred  miles  a  day. 
Besides  serving  the  purposes  of  rapid  transportation,  they  are 
far  more  extensively  useful.  Their  milk  yields  cheese  ;  their 
flesh,  a  wholesome  and  nutritious  diet.  Their  skin  furnishes 
clothing  ;  the  tendons,  bow-strings  and  thread ;  and  the  bones 
and  horns,  glue  and  spoons. 

Let  the  camel  and  the  rein-deer  change  places.  Carry  the 
latter  to  the  burning  sands  of  Asia  or  Africa,  and  transport 
the  former  to  the  confines  of  the  arctic  circle.  What  hap- 
pens 1  Both  become  miserable  and  useless  creatures.  There 
is  no  adaptation  in  the  broad,  spongy  sole  of  the  camel,  and 
no  occasion  for  his  fifth  stomach.  Neither  his  constitution 
nor  his  clothing  is  suited  to  the  climate.     He  becomes  an 


INSECTS.  75 

unprofitable  and  unhappy  creature :  he  lingers,  pines,  and 
dies.  Does  the  rein-deer  fare  better  by  the  change  1  No. 
He  is  unable  to  bear  the  heat  of  the  sun  and  the  drought  of 
the  desert.  His  dense  coat  of  hair  is  an  intolerable  burden, 
and  he  soon  falls  a  victim  to  an  unsuitable  climate.  Now, 
how  shall  we  account  for  the  suitableness  of  the  creature  to 
the  circumstances  in  which  he  is  placed,  but  by  the  admis- 
sion of  a  wise  First  Cause  1  Insensible  must  be  the  heart 
which  is  not  filled  with  admiration  at  such  adaptations,  and 
callous  those  affections  which  do  not  glow  with  gratitude  to 
the  bountiful  Author  of  Nature. 

i 

> 

INSECTS. 

The  structure  of  insects  might  furnish  materials  for  a  large 
dissertation ;  but  it  is  intended  to  make  only  a  few  general 
remarks  on  the  subject.  We  admire  and  applaud  the  con- 
summate skill  of  the  artist  who  forms  any  piece  of  machinery 
on  a  minute  scale ;  as  a  watch  that  can  be  set  in  a  ring  for 
the  finger.  How  delicate  and  exact  must  be  the  adaptation 
of  the  parts,  and  how  accurate  the  workmanship  of  the 
whole  !  Ought  not  a  similar  admiration  to  accompany  us 
when  we  pass  through  that  province  of  nature  where  animal 
organization  is  set  before  us  in  miniature?  Insects  are  com- 
monly overlooked,  or  regarded  with  an  eye  of  careless  indif- 
ference. But  the  mechanism  of  their  bodies,  and  their  in- 
stinctive propensities,  plainly  indicate  a  designing  cause. 

There  is  a  prodigious  variety  of  insects,  differing  in  figure, 
color,  and  disposition  of  parts.  But  here,  as  in  every  other 
department  of  sentient  nature,  there  is  a  close  connection 
between  the  external  form  and  the  habits  of  the  animal.  All 
the  tribes  of  insects  proceed  from  parents  like  themselves. 
The  doctrine  of  spontaneous  or  equivocal  generation  was  fa- 
mous among  ancient  philosophers  ;  who,  although  they  did 
not  think  of  applying  it  to  the  larger  animals,  where  its  false- 
hood was  obvious,  thought  it  accounted  for  the  appearance 
of  insects.  Some  observers  of  nature,  perceiving  that  swarms 
of  insects  appeared  on  different  substances,  such  as  putrid 
flesh,  and  the  leaves  of  plants,  rashly  concluded  that  these 
diminutive  animals  were  produced  by  the  action  of  the  sun 
on  those  substances.  Men  long  rested  satisfied  with  this 
vague  notion,  which  at  once  flattered  them  with  the  belief 
that  they  knew  the  truth,  and  relieved  them  from  the  trouble 
of  careful  inquiry  and  observation.     But  the  experiments  of 


76  INSECTS. 

Redi,*  Malpighi,t  and  others,  dissipated  the  illusion,  and 
established  the  important  truth,  that  every  animal  proceeds 
from  a  parent  of  its  own  kind.| 

The  exquisite  organization  of  insects  has  excited  the  ad- 
miration of  the  most  distinguished  anatomists.  "  After  an 
attentive  examination,"  says  Swammerdam,^  "of  the  nature 
and  anatomy  of  the  smallest  as  well  as  of  the  largest  animals, 
T  cannot  help  allowing  the  least  an  equal,  or,  perhaps,  a  su- 
perior degree  of  dignity.  If,  while  we  dissect  with  care  the 
largest  animals,  we  are  filled  with  admiration  at  the  elegant 
disposition  of  their  parts,  to  what  a  height  is  our  astonishment 
raised  when  we  discover  all  these  parts  arranged,  in  the  least, 
in  the  same  regular  manner  !  "  In  every  department  of  ani- 
mated nature  design  is  so  obvious  that  it  is  not  easy  to  deter- 
mine where  it  is  most  conspicuously  displayed. 

Insects  have  organs  of  sense  as  well  as  the  larger  animals. 
We  can  form  no  conception  of  any  animal  with  more  senses 
than  we  ourselves  enjoy  ;  and  we  cannot  assert  that  all  in- 
sects possess  as  many  senses  as  are  found  in  man.  But  we 
may  confidently  affirm  that  the  Creator  has  bestowed  upon 
them  as  many  as  are  necessary  for  their  preservation,  in  their 
respective  conditions.  All  insects  enjoy  the  sense  of  feeling 
in  common  with  other  animals.  In  some  of  them,  we  can 
discover  no  organs  of  vision ;  but  many  of  them  have  two 
eyes,  and  some  of  them  have  more.  It  may  not  be  easy  to 
point  out  the  ears  of  these  minute  animals ;  but  it  is  certain 
that  many  of  them  possess  the  sense  of  hearing,  or  something 
analogous  to  it.  Many  of  them  seem  capable  of  discovering 
their  food  by  smelling;  and  they  appear  to  exercise  taste  in 
the  selection  of  it.  Our  inability  to  discover  the  organs  of 
any  particular  sense  in  insects,  is  no  evidence  tliat  they  are 

*  A  celebrated  naturalist  of  Florence.  He  was  not  only  a  learned  man,  but 
a  liberal  patron  of  learning-.     He  died,lG97. 

t  A  physician  of  Bologna  j  author  of  several  curious  and  important  discov- 
eries in  anatomy. 

:|:  The  dragon-fly — to  mention  one  out  of  a  thousand  remarkable  instances — is 
an  inhabitant  of  the  air,  and  cannot  exist  in  water  5  yet,  in  this  element,  which 
is  alone  adapted  for  her  young,  she  drops  her  eggs. 

Not  less  surprising  is  tlie  parental  instinct  of  the  gadfly  (gasterophilus  eqni), 
whose  larvffi  are  destined  to  be  nourished  in  the  stomach  and  intestines  of  the 
horse  !  How  shall  the  parent  convey  them  there  ?  By  a  mode  truly  extraor- 
dinary. Flying-  round  the  animal,  she  curiously  poises  her  body  while  she  depos- 
its her  eggs  on  the  hairs  of  his  skin.  Whenever,  therefore,  the  horse  chances 
lo  lick  the  part  of  his  body  to  which  they  are  attached,  they  adhere  to  the 
tongue,  and  from  thence  pass  into  the  stomach  and  intestines.  And  what  in- 
creases our  surprise  is,  that  the  fly  places  her  eggs  ahuost  exclusively  on  the 
knee  and  the  shoulder;  on  those  parts  the  horse  is  sure  to  lick. — Paxton. 

^  An  eminent  entomologist  of  Amsterdam.  He  studied  and  wrote  several 
works  of  merit  at  Leyden.     He  died,  1680. 


INSTINCT.  77 

destitute  of  that  sense.  The  organs  may  be  so  minute  as 
altogether  to  elude  our  discernment.  Besides,  insects  may 
enjoy  something  analogous  to  our  senses,  though  not  through 
the  medium  of  organs  constructed  as  ours  are. 

In  insects  (I  use  the  word  in  a  vague  sense),  respiration  is 
carried  on  by  means  of  trachecB,  or  air-tubes,  running  below 
the  skin,  and  communicating  with  the  surface  by  numerous 
openings.  In  some  of  them,  the  air  passes  through  the  cu- 
ticle in  every  part  of  the  body.  Their  organs  for  the  recep- 
tion of  their  aliment  are  very  differently  formed.  Such  of 
them  as  eat  have  claws  for  seizing  their  food,  and  teeth  for 
gnawing  and  comminuting  it.  Those  which  subsist  by  suck- 
ing fluids  are  provided  with  a  pump,  longer  or  shorter,  ac- 
cording to  their  necessities.  Many  kinds,  which,  at  first 
sight,  appear  to  have  no  opening  for  the  reception  of  nour- 
ishment, are  furnished  with  two  large  pincers  on  their  head 
for  the  conveyance  of  their  aliment.  There  is  much  variety 
in  the  internal  organization  of  insects;  but  in  all  of  them  the 
great  process  of  nutrition  is  successfully  carried  on. 

Insects  can  provide  for  their  safety  in  different  ways. 
Some  escape  by  flight.  Some,  for  the  purpose  of  conceal- 
ment, make  their  abode  in  places  of  the  same  color  with 
themselves.  The  skin  of  some  is  so  hard  as  to  form  a  kind 
of  coat  of  mail ;  and  some  are  provided  with  a  formidable 
sting.  No  species  perishes,  either  through  its  own  help- 
lessness, or  the  violence  of  its  enemies.  [Plates  XV.  and 

xxn.]* 


CHAPTER  V. 

INSTINCT. 

On  glancing  at  animated  nature,  a  grand  characteristic 
of  man  presents  itself  to  our  view;  his  capacity  of  reasoning, 
deliberating,  planning,  and  varying  the  means  which  he  em- 
ploys for  the  accomplishment  of  his  ends  according  to  the 
exigencies  of  the  case.  The  inferior  animals  almost  always 
use  the  same  means  for  the  attainment  of  the  same  ends. 
They  are  either  altogether  incapable  of  reasoning,  or  possess 
the  faculty  in  a  very  low  degree;  and,  accordingly,  if  we 
meet  with  any  improvement  among  them,  it  is  that  of  a  few 

*  The  number  of  species  of  insects  known  to  entomologists,  and  preserved  in 
cabinets,  is,  at  present,  not  less  than  forty  thousand.  Tliis  number,  however, 
must  probably  form  a  small  proportion  of  the  whole  number  which  exist  upon 
earth. — Dr.  Ware. 

7* 


78  INSTINCT. 

individuals  only,  under  the  special  instruction  of  man ;  not 
of  the  species,  or  of  a  society.  But  we  see  men  in  one  age, 
or  in  one  country,  without  knowledge,  and  without  curiosity, 
roaming,  singly  or  in  little  bands,  in  the  desert ;  without  fore- 
sight or  steady  industry ;  rudely  feeding  on  the  spontaneous 
fruits  of  the  earth,  or  on  the  precarious  supplies  of  fishing 
and  hunting ;  and  lodging  in  a  cave,  under  the  projection  of 
a  rock,  in  the  shelter  of  a  thicket,  or  under  a  tent  of  stakes 
covered  with  bushes,  bark,  or  skins ;  the  erection  of  which 
is  scarcely  the  labor  of  an  hour.  Their  clothing  is  as  rude 
and  scanty  as  their  other  accommodations. 

At  another  period,  or  in  a  difierent  country,  we  find  them 
comfortably  clad ;  surrounded  with  flocks  and  herds,  and  re- 
moving from  place  to  place  for  the  conveniency  of  pasture  ; 
occasionally  soliciting  the  earth,  by  means  of  agriculture,  to 
contribute  more  liberally  to  their  subsistence  and  comfort; 
living  in  movable  habitations,  and  enjoying  unpolished  plenty. 
If  we  still  follow  the  stream  of  human  improvement,  after 
passing  different  stages  and  through  various  scenes,  we  come 
to  a  busy  multitude  pursuing,  with  ambitious  industry,  their 
several  employments,  under  the  protection  of  equal  laws; 
building  houses  ;  clearing  the  forest ;  planting  trees  ;  applying 
all  the  powers  of  their  labor  and  ingenuity  to  the  cultivation 
of  the  soil ;  plunging  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth  in  quest  of 
minerals ;  draining  marshes  and  lakes,  and  straightening 
the  water-course  ;  making  roads  and  bridges ;  digging  canals 
and  deepening  rivers ;  engaged  in  manufactures  and  com- 
merce ;  exchanging  the  productions  of  one  quarter  of  the 
globe  for  the  superfluities  of  another ;  building  and  embellish- 
ing magnificent  cities ;  forming  literary  and  scientific  estab- 
lishments ;  impressing  air,  fire,  and  water,  into  their  service ; 
constructing  machines  for  the  abridgment  of  labor  ;  exploring 
the  different  corners  of  the  earth,  and  making  themselves  ac- 
quainted with  the  inhabitants  and  the  productions  of  every 
country ;  investigating  the  physical  laws  of  the  universe  ; 
ascertaining  the  motions  and  magnitudes  of  the  heavenly 
bodies;  calculating  the  distances  of  the  sun  and  planets, 
measuring  the  velocity  of  light,  and  observing  the  aberration 
of  the  fixed  stars. 

Such  is  a  sketch  of  the  career  of  society  from  rudeness  to 
civilization,  agreeably  to  the  different  states  in  which  man- 
kind have  been  found.*  The  individual  exhibits  something 
of  a  similar  progress  in  improvement.     His  first  efforts  are 

*  Nothins^  that  has  been  here  said  is  intended  to  apply  to  the  original  state  of 
man  •,  5iil  merely  to  mark  his  progress  from  the  lowest  state  of  degradation  in 
whicli  he  has  been  found  to  the  highest  degree  of  civilization. 


INSTINCT.  79 

awkward ;  his  productions  rude  and  clumsy.  He  improves 
by  observation  and  practice,  and  gradually  advances  from  one 
stage  of  excellence  to  another.  The  observation  applies,  not 
to  his  mechanical  skill  only,  but  to  his  moral  and  intellectual 
attainments  also. 

If  we  turn  our  eye  to  the  inferior  animals,  a  very  different 
picture  is  presented  to  our  view.  Every  species  is  stationary. 
With  some  minute  modifications,  depending  on  local  circum- 
stances, it  is  the  same  in  every  age  and  in  every  country. 
In  cases,  indeed,  where  the  inferior  animals  are  trained  to 
the  service  of  man,  their  natural  disposition  and  habits  are, 
by  subjugation  and  discipline,  occasionally,  in  some  respects, 
altered  and  improved.  Any  progressive  attainment,  however, 
is  merely  that  of  the  individual.  Societies  never  advance. 
In  most  instances,  the  individual  also  is  altogether  stationary. 
The  bird  builds  its  nest,  and  the  bee  constructs  its  cell,  as 
perfectly  on  the  first  attempt,  and  without  either  instruction 
or  experience,  as  at  any  future  period.  This,  I  apprehend, 
is  instinct  in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  word.  I  do  not  pre- 
tend to  draw  a  distinct  line  between  reason  and  instinct,  or 
in  every  instance  to  determine  where  the  one  ends  and  the 
other  begins.  But  the  general  notion  of  instinct  is,  a  pro- 
pensity prior  to  experience,  and  independent  on  education. 
Some  instincts,  however,  are  capable  of  accommodation,  or 
even  of  improvement.  The  creature  is  susceptible  of  some 
degree  of  education.  But  other  instincts,  particularly  those 
of  insects,  are  invariably  the  same. 

In  this  chapter,  I  purpose  to  take  notice  of  some  of  the 
instincts  of  the  inferior  animals  relating  to  the  preservation 
of  the  individual,  and  to  the  continuation  of  the  species.  In 
the  last  chapter,  I  made  some  observations  on  corporeal  or- 
ganization, and  shall  now  attend  to  the  corresponding  in- 
stincts. These,  at  times,  are  so  closely  connected,  and  so 
run  into  each  other,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  treat  of  them  alto- 
gether separately.  As,  in  the  last  chapter,  our  attention  was 
chiefly  turned  to  organization,  so,  in  the  present,  instinct  will 
be  our  main  subject. 

I.  The  different  kinds  of  animals  instinctively  make  use 
of  the  means  of  defence  and  safety  with  which  they  are  pro- 
vided. The  calf  pushes  with  its  head,  even  before  its  horns 
appear — a  proof  that  the  instinct  exists  prior  to  the  expansion 
of  the  parts  for  the  employment  of  which  it  is  implanted. 
The  horse  uses  both  his  teeth  and  his  heels,  or  treads  down 
his  adversary  with  his  fore  feet ;  although  in  a  wild  state  his 
heels  are  the  main  instrument  of  defence ;  and  it  may  be 


80  INSTINCT. 

added,  that,  in  that  state,  when  horses  sleep,  one  remains 
awake  to  give  warning  of  approaching  danger.  The  dog,  in 
combating  the  enemy,  employs  his  teeth,  and  the  feline  tribe 
uses  both  teeth  and  claws.  The  insect  has  recourse  to  its 
sting.  The  ox  never  attempts  to  bite,  nor  the  dog  to  butt 
with  his  head  :  each  of  them  instinctively  feels  that  he  pos- 
sesses more  effectual  means  of  defence.  The  hare  has  re- 
course to  flight,  and  commonly  betakes  itself  to  high  ground, 
as  the  length  and  muscularity  of  its  posterior  extremities  give 
it  an  advantage  in  ascending  the  hill.  By  its  doublings,  it 
often  perplexes  and  eludes  the  enemy.  The  cunning  of  the 
fox,  in  providing  his  food  and  in  making  his  escape  from  his 
pursuers,  is  proverbial. 

The  inferior  animals  instinctively  know  their  enemies,  and 
apprise  each  other  of  their  common  danger.  The  fox  devours 
birds ;  and  birds  no  sooner  see  him  approach  than  they  utter 
cries,  which  are  understood  by  the  whole  flock,  and  put  them 
instantly  upon  their  guard.  Every  dam  has  a  call  for  her 
young,  and  in  every  flock  and  herd  there  are  expressions 
which  bring  numbers  together ;  expressions  of  enjoyment  or 
suffering,  of  desire  or  aversion.  By  a  particular  sound,  the 
hen  invites  her  chicks  to  partake  of  food  ;  and  they  instantly 
comply  with,  the  invitation.  By  a  different  cry  she  apprises 
them  of  danger  on  the  approach  of  the  hawk,  and,  although 
they  have  never  heard  the  cry  before,  they  hasten  to  her  for 
concealment  and  shelter. 

When  marmots  are  gamboling  among  the  grass,  they  sta- 
tion one  of  their  number  as  sentinel  upon  a  rock.  If  the 
sentinel  perceive  a  man,  an  eagle,  a  dog,  or  any  other  enemy, 
by  a  whistle,  he  gives  his  companions  notice  of  their  danger, 
and  he  is  the  last  to  enter  the  hole  leading  to  their  habitation. 
Monkeys,  and  several  other  animals,  employ  similar  precau- 
tions. In  many  instances,  animals  of  the  same  kind  combine 
their  efforts  in  order  to  repel  a  common  enemy.  A  single  rook 
is  no  match  for  a  kite ;  but  whenever  the  kite  appears,  the 
rooks  that  are  within  sight  join  in  attacking  him.  The  migra- 
tion of  birds  discovers  a  wonderful  instinct,  and  may  be  con- 
sidered as  a  means  of  security.  Several  kinds  of  them,  at 
stated  seasons,  quit  their  summer  abodes,  and,  in  great  flocks, 
repair  to  the  places  where  the  temperature  is  most  suited 
to  their  constitutions,  or  where  their  food  is  most  abundant. 

Many  animals  instinctively  employ  proper  means  for  heal- 
ing their  wounds  and  curing  their  diseases.  The  Kamtscha- 
dales  confess  that  they  owe  to  the  bears  all  their  skill  both  in 
physic  and  surgery ;  that,  by  observing  the  herbs  with  which 


INSTINCT.  81 

those  animals  rub  their  wounds,  and  to  which  they  have  re- 
course when  sick  or  languid,  they  have  become  acquainted 
with  most  of  the  simples  in  use  among  them,  either  in  the 
way  of  internal  medicine,  or  of  external  application.  In 
short,  as  all  animals  possess  some  means  of  defence  and 
safety,  so  they  have  corresponding  instincts  which  prompt 
them  to  the  due  application  of  those  means. 

II.  As  the  inferior  animals  are  provided  with  instruments 
for  procuring  their  food,  so  they  are  endued  with  an  instinc- 
tive skill  in  the  use  of  those  instruments.  Every  animal  in- 
stinctively knows  the  food  that  will  nourish  it.  The  chick, 
almost  as  soon  as  it  escapes  from  the  shell,  runs  to  its  food, 
and  pecks  with  its  bill.  The  principal  food  of  the  rein-deer, 
in  winter,  is  a  kind  of  white  moss  ;  and  the  animal  digs  with 
its  feet  under  the  snow  in  order  to  obtain  it.  Sheep  act  in 
a  similar  manner.  The  beaver  lays  up  a  stock  of  winter 
provision  :  the  squirrel  does  the  same.  Numbers  of  the  crow 
kind  hide  food  in  holes,  when  they  have  it  in  plenty,  and  ap- 
ply to  their  concealed  stores  in  times  of  scarcity.  When  ra- 
vens find  themselves  unable  to  break  the  shells  of  muscles, 
and  other  testacca,  they  carry  them  to  a  great  height  in  the 
air,  and  accomplish  their  purpose  by  letting  them  fall  upon  a 
rock.  In  some  parts  of  the  country,  furze  is  occasionally,  in 
seasons  of  scarcity,  thrashed  as  food  for  horses;  but  the  horse 
can  perform  the  operation  for  himself  He  tramples  upon 
the  branches,  and  paws  them  with  his  fore  feet,  till  the  prickles 
are  mashed  together  or  rubbed  off;  and  so  completely  does 
he  perform  the  work,  that  the  food  thus  prepared  might  be 
squeezed  by  the  hand  with  impunity. 

Gass*  informs  us,  that,  in  the  country  towards  the  source 
of  the  Missouri,  wolves,  in  packs,  hunt  the  antelope,  which 
is  too  swift  to  be  run  down  by  a  single  wolf  The  wolves 
take  their  station  ;  part  of  the  pack  begins  the  chase,  and, 
running  in  a  circle,  they  at  intervals  relieve  each  other. 
From  Le  Page  de  Pratz,t  in  his  History  of  Louisiana,  we 
learn  that  wolves  discover  a  similar  sagacity  in  hunting  the 
buffalo.  The  arctic  gull,  which  is  somewhat  larger  than  the 
common  gull,  often  pursues  it.  The  gull,  after  flying  for 
some  time,  with  loud  screams  and  evident  marks  of  terror, 
drops  its  dung,  which  its  pursuer  immediately  darts  at,  and 
catches  before  it  falls  into  the  sea.     In  insects  that  undergo 

*  Author  of  a  Journal  of  the  Voyages  and  Travels  of  a  Corps  of  Discovery 
under  the  Command  of  Captains  Lewis  and  Clarke,  in  the  years  1804 — 1806. 
Mr.  Gass  was  one  of  this  exploring  party. 

t  Author  of  a  History  of  Louisiana,  2  vols.,  translated  from  the  French. 
(London,  1763.) 


WS  INSTINCT. 

several  transformations,  the  instinctive  propensity  changes 
with  the  appearance  of  the  animal.  Some  that  in  one  stage 
feed  on  putrid  bodies,  in  another  extract  a  delicious  aliment 
from  herbs  and  flowers.  This  instinctive  sagacity  appears 
throughout  all  animated  nature. 

III.  Many  animals  live  without  any  fixed  habitation,  and 
the  dwelling  which  others  frequent  is  of  the  simplest  kind ; 
as  the  form  of  the  hare's.  Some  animals  have  no  particular 
place  of  residence  during  winter,  as  many  kinds  of  birds,  but 
prepare  a  place  in  spring  for  bringing  forth  and  rearing  their 
young.  Others,  as  the  beaver,  have  no  fixed  residence  in 
summer,  but  provide  a  comfortable  habitation  against  the 
severity  of  winter.  In  the  construction  of  their  houses  many 
animals  display  much  sagacity ;  and  as  an  example  of  this 
we  may  select  the  beaver.  He  is  a  native  chiefly  of  high 
latitudes,  and,  though  not  possessed  of  all  that  surprising  sa- 
gacity and  ingenuity  which  some  distinguished  naturalists 
have  ascribed  to  him,  is  endued  with  wonderful  instincts. 

The  beavers,  when  numerous,  construct  their  houses  on 
the  margin  of  ponds,  lakes  and  rivers.  They  always  choose 
a  place  where  the  water  is  so  deep  as  not  to  freeze  to  the 
bottom.  When  they  build  on  small  rivers,  where  the  water 
is  liable  to  be  drained  off  by  a  failure  in  the  sources  which 
supply  the  stream,  they  provide  against  the  evil  by  making  a 
dam  quite  across  the  river  at  a  convenient  distance  from  their 
houses.  This  shows  the  foresight  and  sagacity  of  an  engi- 
neer in  erecting  a  fort,  or  marking  out  the  ground  for  the 
site  of  a  city.  The  shape  of  the  dam  varies  according  to 
circumstances.  If  the  current  of  the  river  be  slow,  the  dam 
runs  almost  straight  across ;  but  if  the  current  be  rapid,  the 
dam  is  formed  with  a  considerable  curve  towards  the  stream, 
so  that  the  different  parts  of  it  support  each  other,  like  an 
arch.  The  materials  employed  are  drift  wood,  green  wil- 
lows, birch  and  poplars,  if  they  can  be  gotten ;  also  mud  and 
stones,  intermixed  in  such  a  manner  as  contributes  much  to 
the  strength  of  the  dam,  which,  when  the  beavers  are  allow- 
ed long  to  frequent  a  place  undisturbed,  by  frequent  repairs, 
becomes  very  firm. 

The  beavers  always  cut  their  wood  higher  up  the  river 
than  their  houses,  so  that  they  enjoy  the  advantage  of  the 
stream  in  conveying  it  to  the  place  of  its  destination.  On 
the  margin  of  lakes,  where  they  have  always  a  sufficient  depth 
of  water,  they  construct  no  dams.  Their  houses,  however, 
are  built  of  the  same  materials  as  the  dams;  and  their  di- 
mensions are  suited  to  the  number  of  inhabitants,  which  sel- 


INSTINCT.  bJf 

dom  exceeds  four  old  and  six  or  eight  young  ones.  The 
great  aim  of  the  beaver  is,  to  have  a  dry  bed ;  and  their 
houses,  which  are  but  rude  structures,  have  only  one  door, 
always  opening  to  the  water.*  The  otter,  likewise,  discov- 
ers much  sagacity  in  forming  his  habitation.  He  burrows 
under  ground,  on  the  banks  of  rivers  and  lakes.  He  always 
makes  the  entrance  to  his  house  under  water,  working  up- 
wards towards  the  surface  of  the  earth,  and  forming  different 
chambers  in  his  ascent,  that,  in  case  of  high  floods,  he  may 
still  have  a  dry  retreat.  He  forms  a  small  air-hole  reaching 
to  the  surface  ;  and,  for  the  purpose  of  concealment,  this  air- 
hole commonly  opens  in  a  bush. 

The  marmot,  also,  displays  a  surprising  instinct  in  pre- 
paring his  habitation.  In  the  declivity  of  a  hill  he  digs  two 
small  subterraneous  passages,  opening  at  some  distance  from 
each  other.  They  gradually  ascend,  and  approach  each 
other,  till  they  meet  in  a  common  trunk.  In  this  common 
trunk,  the  marmots  form  a  level  dwelling,  and  carpet  it  care- 
fully with  moss  and  hay.  One  of  the  passages  forms  an  en- 
trance to  the  house ;  in  the  other  the  excrements  are  depos- 
ited. A  number  of  marmots  lodge  in  the  same  house,  which 
is  formed  by  their  united  labor.  On  feeling  the  approach  of 
winter,  they  closely  shut  up  the  passages  to  their  house,  and 
sleep  till  the  return  of  spring.  In  the  marmot,  Spallanzanit 
found  living  action  to  cease  in  a  temperature  about  29°  or 
30°  Fahrenheit. 

IV.  In  this  section  we  shall  take  notice  of  instincts  rela- 
ting to  the  continuation  of  the  species. 

Throughout  the  wide  extent  of  animated  nature,  so  far  as 
it  falls  under  our  observation,  individuals  die,  but  the  species 
continues.  The  Author  of  that  constitution  of  things,  which 
carries  into  execution  the  first  of  these,  has  made  an  adequate 
provision  for  the  last.  The  reproductive  powers  of  the  differ- 
ent kinds  of  animals  are  admirably  adjusted  to  their  natural 
term  of  life,  and  to  the  dangers  to  which  they  are  exposed ; 
so  that  no  species  ever  perishes.  Even  where  the  life  of  the 
individual  does  not  extend  beyond  the  short  space  of  a  day, 
there  is  as  sure  a  provision  made  for  the  continuation  of  the 
species,  as  where  the  life  of  the  individual  extends  to  a  hun- 

*  See  Hearae's  Journey  to  the  Coppermine  River.  Hearne  was  an  English 
traveller  in  the  service  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company.  He  was  employed,  in 
1769,  to  explore  the  north-western  part  of  the  American  continent.  He  died  in 
1792.  The  narrative  of  his  researches  is  entitled  "  A  Journey  from  the  Prince 
ofWales's  Fort,  in  Hudson's  Bay,  to  the  Northern  Ocean  (1795;  4to.) 

t  Professor  of  natural  history  at  Pavia,  and  author  of  many  valuable  works. 
He  died,  1779. 


84  INSTINCT. 

dred  years.  The  kinds  which  are  liable  to  great  peril  and 
waste  are  very  prolific,  and  the  fecundity  of  those  which  are 
less  exposed  to  danger  is  confined  within  narrower  limits. 
Hares  and  rabbits  bring  forth  far  more  young  than  lions  and 
tigers ;  wrens  are  much  more  prolific  than  eagles  ;  and  the 
fecundity  of  cod-fish  and  salmon  greatly  exceeds  that  of  the 
whale. 

The  earth  exhibits  some  wonderful  organic  remains.  The 
bones  of  those  animals  to  which  the  names  mammoth,  mega- 
thcrion,  &c.  have  been  assigned,  indicate  skeletons  unlike  to 
those  of  any  living  creature  presently  known  ;  and  we  pre- 
tend not  fully  to  account  for  the  remains  described  by  Cuvier 
and  others.  Some  of  them,  at  least,  seemed  to  have  belonged 
to  the  globe,  under  a  constitution  anterior  to  the  present. 
But  although  we  cannot  satisfactorily  explain  these  phenome- 
na, yet  we  are  acquainted  with  no  clear  evidence  of  the  de- 
struction of  any  species  of  animals  that  ever  belonged  to  the 
earth  under  its  present  forms. 

For  the  production  and  rearing  of  their  young,  there  is,  in 
every  kind  of  animals,  a  most  astonishing  combination  of  or- 
ganization and  instinct.  Neither  of  these  is  sufficient  by  it- 
self. The  organization  without  the  instinct  would  be  unpro- 
ductive, and  the  instinct  without  the  organization  would  be 
of  no  avail ;  but  united  they  fully  accomplish  the  end.  We 
are  satisfied  that  nothing  like  legitimate  evidence  can  be  ad- 
duced to  prove  that  the  organization  is  the  cause  of  the  in- 
stinct. They  are  wonderfully  conjoined  ;  but  we  believe 
they  are  independent  on  each  other,  as  much  as  the  candle 
and  the  candlestick,  the  ink  and  the  inkstand.  Is  not,  then, 
the  combination  of  two  such  independent  circumstances,  for 
an  important  purpose,  a  decisive  evidence  of  intelligence  and 
design  1  If  it  be  urged  that  the  organization  is  the  cause  of 
the  instinct,  we  wish  to  know  who  formed  this  constitution 
of  things.  Who  formed  the  organization  which  is  accompa- 
nied with  such  instincts  1  It  was  not  chance,  surely,  but  an 
intelligent  and  wise  cause. 

We  shall  make  a  few  more  remarks  on  the  instincts  rela- 
ting to  the  continuation  of  the  species,  under  the  heads  of  the 
nidification  and  incubation  of  birds,  providing  food  for  the 
young,  and  defending  them. 

1.  Among  the  feathered  tribes,  pairing  is  very  commoru 
In  winter,  indeed,  birds  in  general  are  without  any  fixed  hab- 
itation ;  and  many  kinds  of  them  appear  in  large  flocks,  with- 
out any  particular  attention  of  one  individual  to  another.  On 
the  return  of  spring,  however,  the  scene  changes.     The  gen- 


INSTINCT.  89 

era!  society  is  dissolved,  and  many  partnerships,  consisting 
each  of  a  male  and  female,  are  formed.  The  pair  fix  on  a  suit- 
able spot,  and  by  their  joint  labor  construct  a  habitation. 

2.  Most  birds  prepare  their  nests  with  much  care ;  and 
many  of  them  discover  ingenuity  in  the  design,  and  neatness 
in  the  execution.  But  the  ingenuity  and  the  neatness  belong 
to  the  species,  and  in  no  degree  characterize  individuals. 
They  have  no  need  of  an  apprenticeship.  The  nest  of  those 
birds  which  have  paired  for  the  first  time  is  not  more  rude  or 
inconvenient  than  that  of  those  which  have  repeated  the  labor 
of  nidification  for  a  number  of  years.  There  is  no  deficiency 
in  the  first  from  want  of  instruction  and  practice,  and  the  last 
have  gained  nothing  by  observation  and  experience. 

The  dove  that  perched  upon  the  Tree  of  Life, 

And  made  her  bed  among  its  thickest  leaves, 

All  the  winged  habitants  of  Paradise, 

Whose  song-i  once  mingled  with  the  songs  of  Angels, 

Wove  their  first  nests  as  curiously  and  well 

As  the  wood-minstrels  in  our  evil  day. 

The  crow  and  the  magpie,  the  lark  and  the  linnet,  and 
every  other  kind,  has  each  a  peculiar  manner  of  building  its 
nest ;  and  every  individual  of  the  same  species,  in  similar 
circumstances,  follows  the  same  model,  and  uses  similar 
materials.  The  instinctive  propensity  seems,  in  various  in- 
stances, to  accommodate  itself  to  peculiar  circumstances, 
both  in  building  the  nest,  and  in  the  process  of  incubation. 
In  countries  infested  by  monkeys,  some  birds,  which  in  other 
climates  build  in  bushes  or  in  the  clefts  of  trees,  suspend 
their  nests  upon  a  slender  twig,  and  so  elude  the  mischievous 
propensities  of  the  monkey.  With  us,  ravens  build  on  trees  ; 
but  in  the  cold  climates  of  Iceland  and  Greenland,  they  con- 
struct their  nests  in  the  holes  of  rocks. 

The  nest  is  always  suited  to  the  size  of  the  bird,  and  to  the 
number  of  its  eggs  and  young.  Many  small  birds  display 
much  sagacity  in  concealing  their  nests  by  tufts  of  grass,  or 
by  twigs  and  leaves.  In  the  nest  we  see  a  receptacle  pro- 
vided for  eggs  before  they  come  to  maturity,  even  before  the 
bird  knows  that  it  is  to  lay  them.  Each  species  lays  a  de- 
terminate liumber  ;  and  it  appears  that,  in  this  process,  some 
birds,  at  least,  do  not  act  under  the  influence  of  physical  ne- 
cessity, but  have,  to  a  certain  extent,  an  instinctive  volition. 
The  soland  goose,  if  undisturbed,  lays  only  one  egg ;  but  if 
that  be  taken  away,  she  lays  a  second  ;  if  the  second  be  re- 
moved, she  lays  a  third  ;  but  no  more  for  the  season.  In  a 
number  of  instances,  if  one  egg  be  daily  abstracted  from  the 
8 


86  INSTINCT. 

nest,  the  bird  continues  laying  till  she  obtain  her  comple- 
ment. In  this  way  a  swallow  has  been  made  to  lay  nineteen 
eggs  in  one  season. 

In  general,  the  smallest  kinds  of  birds  are  most  prolific ; 
but  from  this  general  rule  there  are  some  exceptions.  The 
eagle  lays  one,  sometimes  two  eggs ;  the  crow,  four  or  five ; 
the  titmouse,  seven  or  eight;  the  small  European  wren,  fif- 
teen ;  the  humming-bird,  however,  a  very  little  creature,  lays 
only  two;  and  yet  the  humming-birds  are  more  numerous  in 
America  than  the  wrens  in  Europe,  being  protected  by  the 
smallness  of  their  size,  the  rapidity  of  their  flight,  and  their 
daring  courage.  After  the  complement  of  eggs  is  provided, 
a  new  and  interesting  scene  is  exhibited.  All  the  former 
habits  of  the  bird  seem  at  once  to  forsake  it.  The  animal 
that  before  was  almost  in  perpetual  motion,  hopping  from 
twig  to  twig,  flitting  from  tree  to  tree,  rising  into  the  air, 
flying  to  considerable  distances,  chirping  and  singing,  be- 
comes at  once  motionless  and  mute.  She  takes  possession 
of  her  nest,  and  with  assiduity  broods  on  her  eggs.  In  some 
instances,  as  in  rooks  and  in  crows,  the  male  supplies  her  with 
food ;  and  in  others,  as  in  pigeons,  relieves  her  by  filling  her 
place.  In  this  way,  the  small  eggs,  which  otherwise  would 
soon  lose  their  heat,  are  always  kept  at  the  due  temperature. 
We  may  add  that  the  albumen,  or  white  of  the  egg,  is  a 
feeble  conductor  of  caloric,  and  consequently  tends  to  pre- 
serve, during  the  occasional  absence  of  the  parent  bird,  that 
equable  temperature  which  is  so  necessary  to  the  evolution 
of  the  ovular  embryo. 

The  eggs  of  the  larger  birds,  on  account  of  tlieir  greater 
size,  retain  heat  longer  than  those  of  the  smaller  birds :  ac- 
cordingly, the  larger  birds  occasionally  leave  their  nests  for 
some  time,  without  injury  to  the  process  of  incubation.  Some 
of  them,  however,  when  they  go  to  feed,  cover  their  eggs; 
the  eider-duck  does  it  with  down  taken  from  her  own  breast. 
But  small  birds  sit  most  assiduously,  otherwise  their  eggs 
could  not  be  hatched.  Here  we  find  an  amazing  adaptation 
of  instinct  to  the  circumstances  of  the  animal,  for  which  we 
see  no  rational  way  of  accounting,  without  ultimately  resort- 
ing to  a  wise  first  cause.  The  bird  does  not  understand  the 
process  which  it  is  carrying  on  :  it  does  not  know  the  end  to 
be  accomplished  ;  yet  it  carries  on  the  process  with  the  most 
minute  precision,  in  opposition  to  all  its  habits  during  the 
other  seasons  of  the  year ;  and  in  the  absence  of  disastrous 
accidents,  arising  from  foreign  causes,  it  accomplishes  the 
end  with  infallible  certainty. 


INSTINC*.  87 

Fish,  with  a  few  exceptions,  are  oviparous  ;  and  generally, 
after  depositing  their  eggs,  pay  no  further  attention  to  their 
progeny.  There  are,  however,  some  striking  exceptions. 
The  female  cayman  repairs  to  the  banks  of  a  river  ;  forms  a 
large  hole  in  the  sand,  and  there  deposits  her  eggs.  She 
covers  them  carefully,  and  rolls  herself  on  the  place  to  smooth 
it,  that  it  may  not  be  discovered.  She  leaves  her  eggs  to  be 
hatched  in  the  sand ;  but  her  instinctive  propensity  prompts 
her  to  return,  at  the  exact  time,  to  uncover  them  and  break 
the  shells,  when  the  young  caymans  come  forth. 

3.  The  instinctive  propensities  of  animals  do  not  terminate 
with  the  appearance  of  their  progeny  in  the  world,  but  con- 
tinue as  long  as  the  aid  of  the  parent  is  needful  for  rearing 
the  offspring.  Most  animals  have  a  strong  affection  for  their 
young,  which  manifests  itself  in  providing  food  for  them. 
And  in  order  to  the  supply  of  this  food,  there  is,  in  many  in- 
stances, a  wonderful  physical  constitution  in  the  parent,  as 
well  as  surprising  instincts  in  the  progeny.  Thus,  in  the 
human  race,  such  is  the  constitution  of  the  mother,  that  she 
secretes  a  nutritious  fluid  for  the  support  of  her  child,  and 
the  secretion  of  this  fluid  accompanies  the  need  for  it.  It 
does  not  depend  on  volition.  It  does  not  exist  at  any  other 
time.  And  in  the  child  what  a  wonderful  instinct  displays 
itself  in  the  complicated  muscular  action  by  which  this  fluid 
is  obtained  !  Sucking  is  an  operation  in  which  the  infant 
soon  becomes  expert ;  but  few  grown  persons  can  perform  it. 
The  instinctive  skill  is  lost  when  the  need  for  it  ceases. 

In  many  quadrupeds,  as  well  as  in  the  human  race,  the 
mother  secretes  a  nutritious  fluid  for  the  support  of  her  off- 
spring, and  she  can  yield  nourishment  to  her  young  while 
she  herself  is  feeding.  There  is  a  remarkable  correspondence 
between  the  instinct  of  the  young  animal  and  the  provision 
made  for  its  support.  Almost  as  soon  as  it  comes  into  the 
world,  it  seeks  to  avail  itself  of  the  provision  already  pre- 
pared for  its  sustenance.  Now,  how  happens  it  that  this 
fluid  is  secreted  just  at  the  time  when  it  is  needed  ?  Who 
established  that  constitution  of  the  animal  by  which  the  se- 
cretion takes  place  ?  How  shall  we  account  for  the  young 
animal,  almost  at  the  moment  of  its  birth,  groping  for  the  or- 
gan from  which  it  is  to  receive  food,  and  employing  the 
means  necessary  for  obtaining  that  food  ? 

Human  infancy  is  long,  and  we  find  a  corresponding  affec- 
tion and  solicitude  on  the  part  of  the  parents.  If  a  child  be 
delicate  and  sickly,  the  parents  feel  for  it  a  more  tender  af- 
fection, and  exercise  towards  it  a  more  assiduous  attention, 


88  INSTINCT. 

than  towards  the  infant  of  a  more  robust  constitution.  The 
watchful  care  accommodates  itself  to  the  exigency  of  the 
case,  and  generates  a  degree  of  affection,  without  which  the 
anxiety  and  toil  would  be  altogether  insupportable.  We  may 
trace  this  process  in  the  human  mind  for  a  little  way,  but  it 
ultimately  terminates  in  the  instinctive  principles  of  our  na- 
ture. Young  persons  are  capable  of  receiving  instruction  as 
well  as  food  fi-om  their  parents,  and  accordingly  in  the  human 
race  parental  affection  is  permanent.  After  it  has  ceased  to 
display  itself  in  nourishing  and  defending,  it  appears  in  in- 
structing and  directing. 

Birds  do  not  secrete  a  fluid  for  the  nourishment  of  their 
young ;  but  they  are  diligent  in  providing  food  for  them, 
which  is  earnestly  solicited  and  greedily  received.  We  may 
here  remark,  that  it  is  the  albumen  chiefly  which  is  expended 
in  the  formation  of  the  chick  ;  the  yolk  of  the  egg,  without 
undergoing  any  considerable  change,  being  wrapped  up  in  its 
intestines  to  nourish  it,  till  it  receives  or  is  capable  of  gather- 
ing other  food.  In  most  instances  young  birds  would  inev- 
itably perish  without  the  nursing  care  of  the  parents.  In 
some  cases,  however,  the  young  can  provide  for  themselves 
almost  as  soon  as  they  escape  from  the  shell ;  and  in  these  in- 
stances the  fostering  instinct  of  the  parent  soon  disappears. 
Some  insects  display  an  astonishing  instinct  in  providing 
food  for  their  young  before  they  are  hatched.*  Others,  which 
make  no  such  provision,  lay  their  eggs  in  places  where  the 
young,  when  they  appear,  can  easily  find  subsistence.  These 
instincts  must  proceed  either  from  the  animals  themselves, 
or  from  some  Being  possessed  of  reason  and  intelligence  ; 
but  they  cannot  originate  with  the  inferior  animal  itself,  for 
it  is  obviously  destitute  of  reason,  and  incapable  of  that  fore- 
sight and  wisdom  which  its  cares  and  precautions  indicate. 
In  order  to  account  for  these  instincts,  we  must  ascend  to  a 
wise  and  benevolent  Intelligence. 

4.  All  animals  defend  their  young  ;  and,  in  obeying  this 
instinctive  impulse,  the  mother  seems,  in  many  instances,  to 
lose  her  natural  habits,  and  to  assume  a  new  character.  The 
domestic  hen,  a  stupid  and  timorous  bird,  becomes  fierce  and 
violent  in  defending  her  chickens.  Even  the  harmless  and 
inoffensive  ewe  assumes  a  menacing  air,  stamps  with  her 
foot,  and  seems  to  bid  defiance  to  those  who  approach  her 
lamb.  But  as  the  lamb  acquires  strength,  and  is  able  to  run 
with  its  mother,  her  assumed  character  forsakes  her,  and  she 

*  See  Sincllie's  Philosophy  of  Natural  History,  Dr.  Ware's  ed.  p.  115 


INSTINCT.  OVI 

has  recourse  to  flight.  Hinds  anxiously  conceal  their  fawns, 
and,  in  order  to  draw  the  dogs  away  from  them,  present  them- 
selves to  be  chased.  It  is  at  once  amusing  and  affecting  to 
observe  the  artifices  employed  by  the  lapwing  to  decoy  the 
intruder  to  a  distance  from  her  young. 

The  Kamtschadales  never  venture  to  fire  upon  a  young 
bear  when  the  mother  is  near  ;  for  if  the  cub  falls,  she  be- 
comes enraged  to  a  degree  little  short  of  madness,  and  if  she 
gets  sight  of  the  enemy,  will  only  quit  her  revenge  with  her 
life.  The  same  instinct  is  remarkably  apparent  in  some  in- 
habitants of  the  waters.  The  morse  and  the  polar  white  bear 
have  a  great  affection  for  their  cubs,  and  are  courageous  and 
active  in  defending  them.*  The  sea  otter  pines  to  death  at 
the  loss  of  its  young,  and  breathes  its  last  on  the  spot  where 
they  have  been  taken  from  it.  Throughout  every  province 
of  animated  nature,  we  meet  with  wonderful  instincts,  all 
directed  to  the  preservation  of  the  individual,  and  to  the  con- 
tinuation of  the  species.  Every  instinct  appears  exactly  in 
its  proper  place.  Were  the  instincts  to  be  altered,  or  those 
belonging  to  one  species  transferred  to  another,  the  harmony 
of  the  system  would  be  deranged,  and  disorder  ensue.  For 
instance,  were  the  sheep,  its  time  of  gestation  continuing 
the  same  as  at  present,  to  come  in  season  at  the  same  time 
with  the  mare,  it  would  bring  forth  at  a  period  when  the  in- 
clemency of  the  weather  would  destroy  both  the  mother  and 
her  young. 

If  instincts  result,  as  some  have  imagined,  from  conforma- 
tion of  parts,  who  organized  the  animal  ?  If  they  flow  from 
mechanical  impulse,  who  constructed  the  machine?  Where 
is  the  moving  power  1  To  talk  of  attraction,  gravitation,  na- 
ture, appetency,  &c.,  in  order  to  account  for  the  existence  or 

*  Speaking-  of  the  morse,  Captain  King-  (author  of  the  3d  volume  of  Cook's 
Voyages  to  the  Pacific,  in  177G — 1780)  says, — "  On  the  approach  of  the  boats 
towards  the  ice,  they  took  their  young  ones  under  their  fins,  and  attempted  to 
escape  with  them  into  the  sea.  Some,  whose  cubs  were  killed,  and  left  floating 
on  the  surface  of  the  water,  rose  again  and  carried  them  down,  sometimes 
just  as  our  men  were  on  the  point  of  taking  them  into  the  boat,  and  could  be 
traced  bearing  them  to  a  considerable  distance  throug-h  the  water,  which  was 
stained  with  their  blood.  They  were  afterwards  observed  bringing  them  at  in- 
tervals above  the  surface,  as  if  for  air,  and  again  plung-ing  under  it  with  a  horrid 
bellowing-.  The  female,  in  particular,  whose  young  one  had  been  killed  and 
taken  into  the  boat,  became  so  furious,  that  she  struck  her  two  tusks  through 
the  bottom  of  the  cutter." 

The  affection  between  the  polar  bear  and  her  cub  is  so  great,  that  they  -will 
die  rather  than  desert  each  other.  ''  We  saw  two  white  bears  in  the  water,  to 
which  we  immediately  gave  chase  in  the  jolly-boat,  and  killed  them  both.  Tho 
larger,  which  probably  was  the  dam  of  the  younger,  being  shot  first,  the  other 
would  not  quit,  but  remained  swimming  about,  till,  after  being  fired  upon  sev- 
eral times,  it  was  shot  dead."— .See  Cook's  Third  Voiias:e. 

8* 


JO  INSTINCT. 

characteristic  propensities  of  living  creatures,  is  merely  dark- 
ening counsel  by  a  multitude  of  words.  It  is  a  vain  attempt 
to  substitute  sound  for  sense ;  for  where  is  there  any  rational 
way  of  accounting  for  the  various  instincts  of  animals,  but 
by  referring  them  to  a  powerful,  wise,  and  good  Intelligence? 
In  the  instincts  of  the  creature  we  see  the  perfections  of  the 
Creator;  and  may  apply  to  instincts  in  general  what  Dr. 
Reid  says  of  bees  in  the  construction  of  their  cells.  "  They 
work  most  geometrically,  without  any  knowledge  of  geom- 
etry;  somewhat  like  a  child,  who,  by  turning  the  hand  of  an 
organ,  makes  good  music,  without  any  knowledge  of  music. 
The  art  is  not  in  the  child,  but  in  him  who  makes  the  organ. 
In  like  manner,  when  a  bee  makes  its  combs  so  geometri- 
cally, the  geometry  is  not  in  the  bee,  but  in  that  great  Geom- 
etrician who  made  the  bee,  and  made  all  things  in  number, 
weight,  and  measure."  If  we  do  not  see  other  animals  dis- 
playing the  geometry  of  the  bee,  we  observe  them,  in  a 
similar  manner,  employing  suitable  and  effectual  means  for 
the  accomplishment  of  their  ends. 

Thus,  in  our  cursory  glance  at  animated  nature,  we  have 
seen  great  uniformity  accompanied  by  surprising  variety. 
The  same  general  outline,  with  various  modifications,  pre- 
vails widely  in  the  formation  of  living  creatures.  If  we  ex- 
amine any  one  animal,  we  find  its  parts  admirably  adapted  to 
each  other.  They  form  a  harmonious  whole.  By  means  of 
bodily  conformation  and  instinctive  propensity,  an  adequate 
provision  is  made  for  the  preservation  of  the  individual,  and 
the  continuation  of  the  species.  Every  thing  goes  on  in  a 
regular  and  uniform  course.  We  never  see  any  new  species 
of  animals  appearing,  nor  any  old  kinds  ceasing  to  exist. 
We  meet  with  no  metamorphoses  of  animals  into  a  species 
different  from  that  of  their  parents.  By  adventitious  circum- 
stances, the  size,  strength,  and,  in  some  measure,  the  in- 
stincts of  animals,  may  be  altered  ;  but  still  the  character  of 
the  species  remains  essentially  the  same. 

There  is  an  amazing  gradation  of  animated  beings,  but 
even  the  classes  that  seem  most  nearly  allied  are  distinct. 
Each  kind  continues  what  it  originally  was.  We  never  sec 
one  species  either  suddenly,  or  gradually  in  a  long  succes- 
sion of  ages,  transformed  into  another.  No  species  either 
rises  or  falls  in  the  scale.  Men,  and  all  other  animals,  con- 
tinue such  as  they  have  been  from  the  earliest  records  of 
time.  The  difTerent  species  approach  each  other ;  but  still 
they  are  separated  by  nn  impassable  barrier.  Animated  na- 
ture thus  exhibits  undeniable  marks  of  design,  and  conse- 


THE    OCEAN.  ^1 

quently  leads  us,  with  irresistible  force,  to  a  powerful,  wise, 
and  good  Being,  who  created,  and  continues  to  superintend, 
the  system. 

We  now  proceed  to  inanimaicd  nature ;  and  I  apprehend 
we  will  find  it  wisely  constituted,  and  bearing  a  gracious  re- 
lation to  living  creatures.  As  nothing  within  the  sphere  of 
our  knowledge  gives  us  any  reason  whatever  to  believe  that 
the  one  of  these  formed  the  other,  we  must  attribute  both  to 
the  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  of  a  Supreme  Intelligence. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    OCEAN. 

The  terraqueous  globe  is  an  oblate  spheroid,  having  its 
equatorial  diameter  somewhat  longer  than  the  polar.  The 
globular  figure  is  the  fittest  for  the  steady  motion  of  the  earth 
in  its  orbit,  and  for  its  diurnal  rotation  on  its  axis  :  it  is  also 
the  most  capacious.  The  earth  is  so  firmly  compacted,  that 
although  it  moves  in  its  orbit  with  the  prodigious  velocity  of 
a  thousand  miles  in  a  minute,  yet  no  part  of  it  is  dissipated 
or  shattered.  It  is  a  globe  of  great  solidity.  Some,  indeed, 
have  supposed  that  there  are  vast  caverns  in  its  bowels  ;  but 
the  experiments  of  Dr.  Maskelyne*  and  Professor  Playfair,t 
on  the  mountain  Schehallan,  seem  to  disprove  the  supposi- 
tion ;  as  they  show  the  earth  to  be  more  dense  than  that 
mountain,  and  nearly  five  times  more  dense  than  water. 

On  a  general  survey  of  the  earth,  the  first  thing  that  strikes 
us  is  its  division  into  sea  and  dry  land,  the  ocean  occupying 
more  than  two  thirds  of  the  surface  of  the  terraqueous  globe. 
For  the  ocean  there  is  no  physical  necessity.  The  globe 
might  have  existed  without  it,  and  probably  some  of  the  orbs 
of  the  solar  system  are  not  provided  with  a  proportion  of 
water  equal  to  that  which  obtains  on  the  earth  which  we 
inhabit.     We  may  suppose  earth  and  water  to  exist  together 

*  An  eminent  mathematician  and  astronomer  of  London.  He  went,  in  1761, 
to  St.  Helena,  in  order  to  o')Scrvc  the  transit  of  Venus.  In  1774,  he  was  em- 
ployed at  Greenwich  in  making  observations  on  the  eclipses  of  Jupiter's  satel- 
lites. The  same  year  he  went  to  Scotland  to  ascertain  the  gravitative  attrac- 
tion of  the  mountain  Schehallan,  in  Perthshire.     He  died  in  1811. 

t  Professor  of  mathematics  at  Edinburgh.  The  latter  part  of  his  life  he  de- 
voted to  the  study  of  ffeolog-y.  The  exoeriment  mentioned  m  the  text  was 
made  in  1816.     He  died  1819." 


92  THE    OCEAN. 

without  design.  But  if  it  shall  appear  that  the  ocean  is  a 
great  component  part  of  one  whole,  that  it  is  not  only  admi- 
rably constituted  in  itself,  but  that  it  is  essential  to  an  estab- 
lished system,  then  we  are  entitled  to  adduce  it  as  an  evi- 
dence of  design.  If  it  be  well  fitted  for  accomplishing  the 
purposes  which  it  serves  in  the  system,  it  is  a  proof  of  v/is- 
dom :  if  these  purposes  be  beneficial,  if  they  contribute  to 
the  existence  and  happiness  of  sentient  beings,  we  contend 
that  it  is  a  display  of  goodness. 
Let  us  glance, 

I.  At  the  ocean  considered  in  itself; 

II.  At  the  purposes  which  it  serves  in  the  system  of  our 
world. 

Under  the  first  of  these  heads,  we  shall  take  notice  of  its 
saline  qualities,  its  tides,  and  its  inhabitants. 

I. — 1.  In  attending  to  the  ocean,  we  are  struck  with  the 
saltness  of  its  waters.  This  is  one  grand  means  of  resisting 
putrefaction,  and  of  preserving  the  great  fluid  mass  in  a  whole- 
some state ;  for  if  the  sea  were  not  impregnated  with  saline 
bodies,  the  putrefaction  of  the  great  mass  of  animal  and  of 
vegetable  matter  which  it  contains  would  soon  prove  fatal  to 
the  inhabitants  of  the  earth. 

Fresh  and  stagnant  waters  soon  putrefy.  But  in  the  waters 
of  the  ocean,  stagnation  and  putrefaction  are  equally  un- 
known. According  to  some,  the  ocean  is  Salter  in  tropical 
climates  than  in  higher  latitudes.  But  the  observations  and 
experiments  of  De  Pages  present  a  different  result.  The 
fact,  however,  is  certain,  that  the  water  of  the  ocean  is  as  free 
from  putrefaction  at  the  equator  as  toward  the  pole.  And  we 
may  observe,  that  if  within  the  tropics,  where  the  tempera- 
ture is  highest,  and  the  tendency  to  putrefaction  greatest,  the 
water  is  not  more  salt,  it  there  feels  most  sensibly  the  cur- 
rent of  rotation,  or  the  general  motion  of  the  water  from  east 
to  west,  particularly  observable  within  the  torrid  zone.  The 
saltness  of  the  ocean  is  every  where  proportioned  to  the  need 
for  it,  in  order  to  the  preservation  of  the  water  in  a  salubri- 
ous state.* 

To  me  it  seems  ev^ident  that  the   saline  qualities  of  the 

*  If  the  mean  saltness  of  the  sea  were  much  greater  under  the  equator  than 
in  the  temperate  zone,  a  current  at  the  bottom,  from  the  equator  towards  the 
pole,  would  be  the  result.  The  mean  density  of  the  water  of  the  sea,  on  an 
average,  is 

From    0°  toM^lat 1.0272. 

From  15°  to  25° 1.0282. 

From  30°  to  44° 1.0278. 

From  54°  to  60° 1.0271. 

Humboldt,  Pers.  Nar.  i.  64. 


THE    OCEAN.  93 

ocean  are  a  proof  not  of  design  only,  but  of  wisdom  and 
goodness  also ;  for  hers  we  see  means  adapted  to  an  end  : 
these  means  answer  the  end :  and  the  end  itself  is  beneficial. 
I  see  no  physical  necessity  for  the  saltness  of  the  ocean.  The 
water,  at  first  fresh  and  stagnant,  might  have  become  one 
great  putrid  mass,  destroying  sentient  beings  in  the  deep,  and 
diffusing  pestilential  and  deadly  vapors  over  the  dry  land.  In 
order,  then,  to  account  for  the  saline  impregnation  of  the 
ocean,  we  must  have  recourse  to  a  designing  cause. 

Some  have  endeavored  to  account  for  the  saltness  of  the 
sea,  by  supposing  that  saline  particles  are  washed  down  from 
the  earth  by  the  rivers,  and  that  the  ocean  has  derived  its 
saltness  from  the  accumulation  of  these  particles.  This  hy- 
pothesis does  not  militate,  in  any  degree,  against  the  exist- 
ence of  a  wise  designing  cause ;  for  still  we  see  adequate 
means  employed  for  the  accomplishment  of  a  beneficial  end, 
and  whatever  these  means  are,  the  argument  in  proof  of  de- 
sign is  the  same.  But  to  me  the  hypothesis  seems  pressed 
with  insuperable  difficulties.  Were  it  true,  we  must  either 
suppose  the  saltness  of  the  sea  to  be  increasing,  or  the  saline 
particles  of  the  earth  to  be  exhausted.  There  is  no  proof, 
however,  that  either  of  these  is  the  case.  The  last,  indeed, 
is  altogether  out  of  the  question  ;  and  as  to  the  saltness  of  the 
sea,  I  believe  it  was  the  same  five  thousand  years  ago  as  at 
this  day. 

According  to  Davy,*  almost  all  solids  and  fluids,  even  the 
purest  distilled  water,  contain  saline  matter. t  But  I  know  of 
no  proof  that  the  accumulation  of  this  matter  in  the  ocean  is 
derived  from  the  rivers.  If  it  were  so,  would  not  the  sea  be 
more  salt  towards  the  mouths  of  great  rivers  than  at  a  dis- 
tance from  them  ?  This  is  nottlio  case.  Lakes  which  have 
an  outlet  are  found  to  contain  fresh  water  :  those  that  have 
no  outlet  are  generally  salt.  But  if  the  sea  derived  its  salt- 
ness from  the  rivers,  then  those  lakes  that  are  fed  by  rivers 
should  discover  the  saline  quality  in  their  waters,  even 
though  they  have  an  outlet ;  for  I  know  of  no  principle  by 
the  operation  of  which  the  saline  matter  can  be  entirely  car- 

*  An  eminent  chemist,  who,  from  obscure  origin,  and  unaided  by  friends, 
raised  himself  to  such  distinction  that  he  was  chosen,  at  the  age  of  22,  to  fill  the 
chair  of  chemistry,  at  the  Royal  Institution  of  Loudon  His  testimony  on  the 
subject  of  religion  is  too  valuable  to  be  o:;i'::icd  here.  "  I  envy,"  says  he,  "  no 
quality  of  the  mind  or  intellect  in  others  ;  uH  genius,  power,  wit,  or  fancy.  But 
if  I  could  clioose  what  would  be  most  del!_;l!'rul,  and  1  believe  most  useful  tome, 
I  should  prefer  a  firm  religious  belief  to  exery  other  blessing." 

t  There  are  no  saline  qualities  in  water  when  first  distilled.  The  salts  men- 
tioned by  Sir  H.  Davy  are  subserjusnlly  a!)sorbed  from  the  atmosphere. — Ed. 


94  THE    OCE.AN. 

ried  off  through  the  outlet.  The  water  of  Lake  Ontario  is  as 
sweet  as  that  of  Lakes  Superior  or  Michigan  ;  and  the  inter- 
vening hikes,  Huron  and  Erie,  discover  no  more  saltness  than 
those  from  which  they  draw  their  supplies.  We  may  add 
that  the  De  la  Plata,  Mississippi,  and  Nile,  are  as  sweet  when 
they  meet  with  the  waters  of  the  ocean  as  at  their  source. 
Lakes  without  an  outlet,  or  inland  seas  where  the  surface  of 
water  is  too  small  to  feel,  in  any  considerable  degree,  the  at- 
traction of  the  sun  and  moon,  are  very  salt ;  and,  from  the 
conformation  of  the  adjacent  lands,  they  are  commonly  much 
agitated  by  winds. 

The  Dead  Sea,  or  Lake  Asphaltites,  has  been  long  famous 
on  account  of  its  saline  impregnation  ;  and  although  many 
fables  have  been  related  concerning  it  by  Josephus  and  oth- 
ers, it  is  true  that  its  waters  are  of  uncommon  density.  It 
contains  upwards  oi"  forty  per  cent,  of  saline  matter,  chiefly 
muriate  of  magnesia  and  of  lime.  The  Caspian  Sea  is,  at 
least,  as  salt  as  the  ocean,  except  where  it  is  sweetened  by 
the  waters  of  the  Volga,  which  is  about  the  distance  of  ten 
leagues  from  the  influx  of  that  river.  It  is  also  much  agi- 
tated by  winds.  The  Black  Sea  is  less  salt  than  the  ocean ; 
but  several  great  rivers  pour  their  waters  into  it,  and  a  con- 
stant current  sets  through  the  Straits  of  Constantinople  to- 
wards the  Propontis.  The  Lake  Aral  is  very  salt.  Thus,  in 
small  seas,  there  is  a  compensation,  in  one  way  or  another, 
for  the  want  of  tides.  Now,  if  the  quantity  of  saline  impreg- 
nation is,  in  every  instance,  proportioned  to  the  circumstances 
of  the  case,  is  not  this  an  evidence  of  design  ? 

2.  The  tides  keep  the  water  of  the  ocean  in  perpetual  mo- 
tion, and  contribute  to  the  preservation  of  its  salubrity.  They 
also  afford  a  hint  to  man  when  investigating  the  laws  of  na- 
ture :  they  are  an  instance  of  the  great  law  or  fact  of  gravita- 
tion, which  so  widely  pervades  the  universe.  They  depend 
chiefly  on  the  ratio  in  which  gravity  acts,  and  form  one  in- 
stance of  the  wisdom  and  goodness  manifested  in  that  ratio. 
Tides  are  owing  principally  to  the  action  of  the  moon.  If 
that  planet  were  quiescent,  we  would  have  high  water  twice 
every  24  hours.  But  the  moon  is  continually  in  motion  round 
the  earth,  and  advances  so  far  every  12  hours,  as  to  make  it 
about  25  minutes  ere  any  meridian  of  the  earth,  after  it  has 
performed  half  a  revolution,  come  under  her  centre ;  and  con- 
sequently about  12  hours  and  25  minutes  intervene  between 
the  high  water  of  two  successive  tides. 

Into  the  theory  and  phenomena  of  the  tides,  it  is  not  the 
object  of  the  present  treatise  to  enter      Sufl[ice  it,  therefore,  to 


THE    OCEAN.  95 

say,  that  the  tides  contribute  to  the  accomplishment  of  a  ben- 
eficial purpose ;  for,  by  the  saltness  of  the  water,  and  the  ac- 
tion of  the  tides,  the  ocean  is  preserved  from  stagnation  and 
putrefaction.  Here  we  see  one  purpose  of  a  secondary  planet 
attending  a  globe  constituted  as  ours  is.  There  are  no  tides, 
it  may  be  alleged,  in  the  Mediterranean  and  Baltic ;  and  yet 
these  seas,  although  not  uncommonly  salt,  are  as  free  from 
putrefaction  as  any  of  the  waters  of  the  ocean.  In  the  Med- 
iterranean, however,  there  is  a  tide,  though  small  and  irregu- 
lar. But  there  is  generally  a  current  passing  through  the 
Straits  of  Gibraltar  into  the  Mediterranean  ;  it  sometimes  sets 
out,  when  the  ebb  tide  in  the  Atlantic  is  great.  In  the  Bal- 
tic, the  water  is  not  so  salt  as  in  the  ocean.  Its  saltness  is 
increased  by  a  westerly  gale,  and  the  waters  raised  some- 
what like  a  tide.  But  a  current  generally  sets  out  through 
the  Sound,  occasioned,  no  doubt,  by  the  rivers  which  empty 
themselves  into  the  Baltic.  These  currents  prevent  stagna- 
tion in  the  Mediterranean  and  Baltic.  Where  tides  do  not 
act,  a  substitute  is  provided. 

In  connection  with  tides,  we  may  mention  the  currents 
which  abound  in  the  ocean ;  and  the  causes  of  these  phenom- 
ena are  more  numerous  than  at  first  sight  might  be  imagined. 
They  may  be  occasioned  by  the  conformation  of  the  coast  or 
of  the  channel  of  the  ocean,  by  a  difference  in  heat  or  salt- 
ness, by  the  melting  of  the  polar  ices,  or  by  the  inequality  of 
evaporation  in  different  latitudes.  Several  of  these  causes 
may  at  times  occur.  The  Gulf-stream  is  a  remarkable  cur- 
rent, which  leaves  the  coast  of  Africa  about  the  latitude  of 
the  Cape  de  Verd  Islands,  traverses  the  ocean  to  the  Ameri- 
can shore,  sweeps  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  stretches  north  as  far 
as  the  Bank  of  Newfoundland,  in  41°,  and  turns  eastward  to- 
wards Madeira.  It  forms  a  great  sea-river,  in  some  places 
near  eighty  leagues  broad.  Its  waters  take  about  two  years 
and  ten  months  to  perform  their  circuit ;  and,  in  some  places 
of  their  course,  are  at  a  much  higher  temperature  than  the 
waters  of  the  surrounding  ocean. 

3.  The  ocean  is  a  great  scene  of  animal  existence  and  en- 
joyment ;  and  it  is  preserved  in  a  fit  state  for  being  so  by  its 
saltness  and  its  tides.  It  is  replenished  with  innumerable 
inhabitants,  all  fitted  for  the  element  in  which  they  reside ; 
and  all,  so  far  as  we  are  capable  of  judging,  enjoying  a  hap- 
piness suitable  to  their  natures.  Thus,  I  think,  the  ocean 
proves  the  existence  of  a  powerful,  wise,  and  good  Intelli- 
gence, by  the  provision  made  for  maintaining  the  salubrity 
of  its  waters,  and  by  its  innumerable  inhabitants. 


96  THE    OCEAN. 

II.  Let  us  glance  at  the  purposes  which  the  ocean  serves 
in  the  system  of  our  world. 

Here  we  find  it  of  essential  importance.  Without  it  the 
globe  would  be  a  barren  and  lifeless  desert,  presenting  one 
uniform  prospect  of  dismal  sterility  and  melancholy  silence ; 
adorned  by  no  verdure,  and  cheered  by  no  busy  scenes  of 
life  and  enjoyment.  To  the  ocean  we  are  indebted  for  the 
beauty  and  fertility  of  the  dry  land.  It  is  the  great  fountain 
of  moisture;  refreshing  and  fertilizing  the  earth,  and  furnish- 
ing an  abundant  and  wholesome  beverage  to  man  and  beast. 
Water  is  exhaled  from  the  ocean  ;  floats  in  the  atmosphere 
in  the  form  of  vapor;  and  is  precipitated  in  dew,  hail,  rain, 
or  snow,  supplying  the  aliment  of  vegetation  to  plants  and 
herbs,  and  yielding  a  salubrious  drink  to  living  creatures. 
By  the  channel  of  the  rivers  it  again  returns  to  the  bosom  of 
the  ocean  ;  and  in  this  circle  it  perpetually  moves,  support- 
ing a  great  system  of  animal  and  vegetable  existence.  It 
deserves  to  be  remarked,  that  water,  although  it  proceeds 
from  the  sea,  yet  is  fresh  when  it  descends  in  rain.  If  much 
ingenuity  be  required  to  render  sea-water  sweet,  shall  we 
deny  the  wisdom  of  Him  who  constructed  the  great  labora- 
tory in  which  the  process  is  carried  on  with  unfailing  precis- 
ion and  success,  on  the  vast  scale  of  nature?  And  if  wis- 
dom be  displayed  in  the  accomplishment  of  the  end,  that  end 
is  unquestionably  a  proof  of  goodness.  It  is  the  means  of 
supplying  a  necessary  aliment  suited  to  our  constitution,  and 
to  which,  by  admixture,  we  can  communicate  any  taste  or 
flavor  that  we  please.  The  earth  is  so  formed  as  to  receive 
the  water  into  reservoirs,  to  filtrate  it,  and  to  give  it  out  in 
perennial  streams,  for  the  constant  supply  of  our  wants. 

At  first  sight,  the  ocean  seem.s  an  insurmountable  barrier 
between  different  portions  of  the  globe,  separating  them  as 
effectually  from  each  other  as  if  they  were  parts  of  different 
planets.  But  we  soon  perceive  that,  even  in  this  point  of 
view,  it  harmonizes  with  the  rest  of  the  system,  giving  scope 
to  human  ingenuity,  and  inviting  to  the  exercise  of  vigorous 
exertion.  Men  soon  learn  to  commit  themselves  to  the  sea, 
and  to  combat  winds  and  waves.  Even  before  civilization  is 
far  advanced,  intrepid  skill  or  casual  misfortune  carries  them 
to  great  distances,  and  spreads  them  widely  over  the  face  of 
the  earth.  The  inhabitants  of  the  far-scattered  islands  of 
the  Pacific  Ocean  speak  nenrly  the  same  language  ;  and  must 
all,  at  no  very  distant  period,  have  sprung  from  a  common 
origin,  and  diverged  from  a  central  point. 

The  ocean  becomes  the  medium  of  a  vast  and  boundless 


WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE.  97 

intercourse  between  nations.  It  facilitates  the  communica- 
tion between  the  most  distant  parts  of  the  earth,  and  the  ex- 
change of  the  commodities  of  different  climates.  No  coun- 
try is  supplied  with  such  a  rich  variety  of  the  necessaries  and 
accommodations  of  life,  but  that  it  may  admit  the  introduc- 
tion of  foreign  superfluities ;  and  even  the  poorest  furnishes 
materials  for  exportation.  The  ocean  is  the  great  medium 
of  commercial  intercourse.  It  also  modifies  the  temperature 
of  the  atmosphere  on  the  land,  rendering  it  warmer  than  it 
would  otherwise  be  in  high  latitudes,  and  cooling  it  in  trop- 
ical climates.  It  is,  also,  an  inexhaustible  storehouse  o^ 
human  food. 

How  f:ir,  and  in  what  particular  manner,  the  ocean  and 
the  exhalations  from  it,  contribute  to  the  purification  of  the 
air  that  has  been  contaminated  by  the  vegetation  of  plants, 
and  the  respiration  of  animals,  I  do  not  at  present  inquire; 
although  I  am  satisfied  that  their  operation,  in  this  respect, 
is  of  essential  importance.  Thus  wisdom  and  goodness  ap- 
pear in  covering  such  a  portion  of  the  globe  with  water,  and 
in  preserving  it  from  stagnation  and  putrefaction.  In  this 
way  an  inexhaustible  fountain  of  moisture  and  fertilization 
is  established ;  a  fit  place  of  residence  for  innumerable  sen- 
tient beings  is  provided ;  the  means  of  facilitating  the  inter- 
course of  distant  nations  are  devised  ;  and  a  great  storehouse 
is  opened  for  supplying  the  wants  and  diversifying  the  enjoy- 
ments of  man. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

WATER,    AS    A    CHEMICAL    SUBSTANCE. 

In  addition  to  the  obvious  utility  of  water  in  supplying  the 
basins  of  the  ocean,  and  lakes,  and  the  beds  of  rivers,  there 
are  so  many  striking  evidences  of  design  and  goodness  in 
the  formation  and  utility  of  water,  considered  as  a  compound 
chemical  substance,  that  we  cannot  with  propriety  withhold 
a  somewhat  extended  consideration  of  it.  What  follows  is 
from  the  gifted  pen  of  J.  K.  Mitchell,  M.  D.,  of  Philadelphia, 
to  whom  the  science  of  chemistry  is  not  a  little  indebted. 

"One  of  the  most  abundant  substances  in  the  worLl,  water 
is  also  one  of  the  most  useful,  whether  W€  view  it  in  the 
agency  of  its  elements,  or  in  the  milder  actions  of  its  com- 
9 


98         WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE. 

pound  State;  Every  where  present,  it  is  every  where  active, 
and  the  extent  and  variety  of  the  phenomena  presented  by  it 
are  such  as  a  life-time  of  observation  could  not  note,  nor  a 
century  of  experience  appreciate.  This  is  itself  a  very  strik- 
ing fact;  for  if  the  very  different  and  even  opposite  uses  sub- 
served by  water,  were  fulfilled  by  as  many  various  substances, 
either  they  would  be  scarce  or  inaccessible  in  many  places, 
or,  being  all  widely  diffused,  w^ould  stand  in  the  way  of  each 
other,  and  encumber  the  beings  they  were  made  to  benefit. 
Capable  of  assuming  all  the/onws  of  matter,  acting  the  part 
of  a  solid,  a  liquid,  or  a  gas  ;  susceptible  of  decomposition  in 
to  two  potent  constituents,  water  admits  of  a  prodigious  extent 
and  variety  of  application.  It  is,  although  obedient  to  most 
of  the  lavv's  by  which  other  matter  is  governed,  gifted  with 
some  singular  exemptions,  so  obviously  the  effect  of  design  as 
to  have  drawn  forth  a  declaration  to  that  effect  from  every 
one  who  has  observed  them.  The  most  remarkable  of  these 
peculiarities  is  that  which  exempts  water  from  obedience  to 
a  law  otherwise  universal,  viz.  that  all  liquids  are  expanded, 
though  in  different  degrees,  by  the  increase  of  their  temper- 
ature. To  this  rule  water  is  partially  submissive  ;  and  from 
40°  F.  up  to  its  boiling  point,  it  is  constantly  expanded  by 
augmented  temperature.  But  below  40°,  the  rule  is  violated, 
and  the  addition  of  heat  invariably  causes  a  contraction. 
Water,  therefore,  at,  or  very  near  to  40°,  is  the  heaviest  water  ; 
for,  whether  we  heat  or  cool  it,  beginning  at  that  tempera- 
ture, it  is  increased  in  bulk,  or  lessened  in  specific  gravity. 
For  this  reason  the  refrigeration  of  the  surface  of  water  makes 
that  surface  heavier,  and  it  sinks  into  the  warmer  liquid  be- 
low it,  until  the  whole  of  the  fluid  in  the  vessel  is  reduced  to 
the  temperature  of  40°  F.  Cooled  below  that  point,  the  sur- 
face of  water,  contrary  to  the  general  law%  becomes  lighter 
as  it  loses  heat,  and  remains  at  the  top  until  its  temperature 
falls  to  32°,  when  it  is  transformed  into  ice.  This  very  curi- 
ous exception  to  a  law,  otherwise  uniform  in  its  application 
to  liquids,  appears  to  have  been  necessary  to  the  welfare, 
and  even  the  continued  existence,  of  animals.  Were  water 
subject  to  the  usual  law  of  expansion  by  heat  at  all  tempera- 
tures, the  consequences  would  be  disastrous.  Before  any  ice 
could  be  formed  in  any  river  or  lake,  all  its  waters  would  be 
reduced  to  the  freezing  point — a  temperature  at  which  few 
aquatic  animals  could  long  survive.  Then  the  place  where 
ice  would  begin  to  form,  would  depend  on  accident,  or  the 
presence  of  solid  bodies,  around  which,  as  nuclei,  it  would 


WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE.  90 

collect.  But  the  fishes,  being  of  the  temperature  of  water, 
would  form  centres  of  aggregation,  and  become  enveloped  in 
ice,  disabled  from  motion,  and  put  to  a  cruel  death. 

The  exception  to  the  general  law  enables  the  heat  of  spring 
and  summer  to  readily  restore  warmth  to  the  water;  for  when 
the  surface  becomes  warmer,  it  sinks  into  the  colder  though 
lighter  liquid  beneath,  until  the  whole  mass  is  raised  again 
to  40°,  when,  the  usual  law  becoming  applicable,  the  warmer 
water  remains  at  the  top.  If  it  were  otherwise,  the  cold  fluid 
at  the  bottom  of  a  lake  could  not  be  brought  near  to  the  sur- 
face, and  it  would  continue  cold  until  the  following  winter, 
acquiring  a  still  lower  temperature ;  until  finally  the  streams 
and  lakes  would  become  solid  masses,  mighty  glaciers,  un- 
tenanted themselves,  and  rendering  uninhabitable  the  adja- 
cent country.  The  population,  if  it  could  still  exist,  would 
not  congregate  on  the  river-courses  and  lake  country,  but 
would  fly  as  far  as  possible  from  the  desolate  streams,  which 
now,  teeming  with  fishes,  and  covered  with  the  white  sails 
of  commerce,  afford  to  man  delicious  food  and  easily-acquir- 
ed wealth. 

Water  offers,  in  freezing,  another  unusual  exception  to  a 
general  law.  Most  liquids,  in  passing  to  the  solid  state,  are 
lessened  in  volume,  or  become  heavier,  so  that  solids  usually, 
though  not  always,  sink  in  their  corresponding  liquids.  Thus 
lead,  which  is  solid,  sinks  in  melted  lead.  But  water  is  ex- 
panded by  congelation,  and  therefore  ice  floats  and  covers 
the  lakes  and  rivers,  during  winter,  with  a  solid  crust,  af- 
fording a  bridge  for  migratory  animals,  and  presenting  to  the 
escape  of  heat  from  the  water  below,  a  useful,  though  imper- 
fect barrier.  But  the  expansion  of  water  in  freezing  is  of 
still  greater  use.  As  winter  approaches,  the  earth  becomes 
wet  with  frequent  rains  ;  and  '  when,'  says  the  Indian  proverb, 
*  the  pools  are  full,  the  ice  and  snow  will  come.'  Even  the 
hardest  and  most  compact  soils  are  thus  moistened.  But 
the  frost  follows  the  water  into  the  ground,  converts  every 
drop  near  the  surface  into  ice,  the  expansion  of  which  forces 
asunder  the  adherent  particles  of  earth,  and  renders  the  soil 
loose  and  spongy  for  the  better  reception  and  nutrition  of 
grass,  seeds,  and  the  roots  of  trees  and  shrubs.  But  for  this 
singular  property,  how  many  cold  and  sterile  wastes  would 
frown,  where  now  there  is  verdure  and  luxuriancy  !  In  this 
manner,  too,  the  more  friable  rocks  are  dilapidated,  and  af- 
ford materials  for  the  creation  or  enrichment  of  soils,  with 
much  greater  rapidity  than  under  the  less  active  forces  of  the 
other  elements  of  decay. 


100        WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE. 

No  Other  liquid  freezes  at  or  about  the  temperature  of  the 
formation  of  ice,  wh  ch  takes  place  at  32°  of  Fahrenheit's 
thermometer.  Mercury  and  ether  are  frozen  at  a  temperature 
at  least  71°  lower  ;  and  alcohol  has  never  yet  been  converted 
into  a  solid  by  any  degree  of  cold,  however  great.  But  had 
the  freezing  point  of  water  been  materially  different,  what 
disastrous  events  would  have  mastered  the  world  !  If  it  were 
to  freeze  at  a  higher  temperature,  we  should  have  the  lakes 
and  rivers  in  icy  chains  during  the  spring  time  and  autumn ; 
and  our  fields,  instead  of  drinking  in  the  genial  showers  of 
April,  would  often  be  covered  with  unfertilizing  snow,  when 
the  plants  and  the  flowers  were  looking  up  to  the  clouds  for 
refreshment  and  food.  The  grass  would  be  withdrawn  from 
the  reach  of  the  ox  and  the  horse,  and  the  seeds  would  lie  on 
the  ground  inaccessible  to  the  birds,  in  the  very  season  of 
maternal  anxiety  and  care.  Instead  of  the  loose  and  friable 
soil,  we  should  encounter,  during  the  greater  part  of  the  year, 
a  hard  and  unyielding  crust,  unfit  for  the  reception  of  seeds 
or  the  stimulation  of  vegetable  growth.  If  the  freezing  point 
were,  on  the  other  hand,  considerably  loivcr,  still  more  ter- 
rible consequences  would  follow.  Instead  of  reposing  under 
the  dry,  light,  and  shielding  snow  of  winter,  the  earth  would 
often  be  deluged  with  water  too  cold  for  its  living  things ; 
and  they  would  perish.  Think  of  getting  wet  in  a  sliower  at 
the  temperature  of  20°  or  1G°!  But  this  water  would  pene- 
trate the  earth,  and  carry  down  its  coldness  beyond  the  reach 
of  the  summer  sun,  and  chill  the  soil  into  barrenness  and 
desolation.  A  thousand  ills  would  spring  from  any  material 
alteration  of  the  freezing  point  of  water  ;  but,  happily,  that 
temperature  was  selected  for  it  by  Him  who,  foreseeing  all 
things,  has  not  forgotten  the  lightest  matter  in  his  multitu- 
dinous universe. 

The  specific  gravity  of  water  is  the  very  best  which  could 
be  given  to  it.  If  lighter,  it  would  not  be  sufficiently  buoy- 
ant for  animals  or  ships ;  and  if  much  heavier,  the  fishes 
could  not  remain  beneath  its  surface.  Any  animal  would 
sink  in  alcohol,  or  ether,  or  oil;  and  on  a  sea  of  mercury  it 
would  be  impossible  to  ballast  a  ship  with  any  thing  but  gold 
or  platinum.  Its  gravity,  therefore,  is  nicely  proportioned  to 
the  weight  of  fishes  and  other  animals,  to  the  timber  of  which 
ships  are  built,  and  to  the  means  of  ballasting  them. 

Compared  with  that  of  other  liquids,  the  capacity  of  water 
for  heat  is  not  a  little  remarkable.  In  passing  through  a 
given  range  of  temperature,  water  absorbs  nearly  thirty 
times  as  much  heat  a^  the  same  weight  of  mercury,  and  about 


WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE.         101 

twice  as  much  as  alcohol,  oil,  or  ether.  The  lakes,  rivers, 
and  oceans  become,  therefore,  during  smnmer,  vast  maga- 
zines of  heat,  cooling  the  air  by  their  great  capacity  for  ca- 
loric heat,  and  storing  it  up  to  be  given  out  again  when  the 
temperature  of  the  air  declines.  So  that  the  v/aters  resist 
sudden  and  great  changes  of  temperature,  both  by  imbibing 
and  giving  out,  according  to  circumstances,  a  very  large 
quantity  of  caloric  ;  and  as  so  large  a  portion  of  the  terrestri- 
al surface  is  occupied  by  water,  the  earth  is  not  only  made 
more  habitable,  but  more  healthful  and  agreeable.  It  is  to 
this  exorbitant  capacity  of  water  that  we  owe  the  land  and 
sea  breezes,  by  which  tropical  islands  and  coasts  are  so  re- 
freshingly fanned.  For  as  the  land,  being  of  less  capacity 
than  water,  is  more  quickly  warmed  by  the  sun,  a  sea  breeze 
is  created  during  the  day;  whilst,  as,  during  the  night,  the 
land,  for  the  same  reason,  cools  faster,  a  land  breeze  is  pro- 
duced. This  vast  capacity  preserves  the  waters  from  freez- 
ing to  a  much  later  period  of  winter,  and  tends  to  temper  the 
march  of  spring,  and  to  prevent  sudden  thaws  and  violent 
inundations.  If  the  capacity  of  water  for  heat  were  low,  the 
fluids  of  the  deepest  lakes  would  soon  be  reduced  to  the  tem- 
perature necessary  to  form  ice,  and  the  lakes  and  rivers  would 
be  withdrawn  for  a  much  longer  period  of  each  year  from  the 
uses  of  commerce.  But  as  the  water  holds  so  vast  a  quantity 
of  heat,  it  maintains  a  long  conflict  with  winter,  and  in  some 
insular  situations,  tempers  its  severity  for  the  whole  season. 
Even  when  ice  25  formed,  the  process  is  useful  in  lessening 
the  severity  of  cold  ;  for  the  ice,  being  of  much  less  capacity 
than  water,  yields  up,  in  passing  to  a  solid  state,  a  very  large 
quantity  of  caloric,  which  renders  more  difficult  the  solidifi- 
cation of  the  rest,  and  gives  warmth  to  the  surrounding  air. 
For  a  like  reason,  the  ice,  as  it  melts  into  water  in  the 
spring,  absorbs  so  great  a  quantity  of  caloric  as  to  temper  the 
onset  of  heat,  and  make  the  thaw  gradual.  Otherwise  the 
liquefaction  would  be  sudden,  and  floods  of  great  extent  and 
irresistible  force  would  desolate,  in  the  spring,  the  countries 
adjacent  to  the  streams. 

There  are  many  phenomena  connected  with  the  ebullition 
of  water  equally  worthy  of  the  notice  of  the  philosophical  the- 
ologian. Among  these  is  the  temperature  of  boiling  water. 
If  that  temperature  had  been  much  Imoer  than  it  is,  we  should 
have  been  unable  to  use  water  as  a  culinary  agent.  Its 
power  of  destroying  the  hardness  and  cohesion  of  animal  and 
vegetable  substances  would  be  annulled,  and  we  should  be 
deprived  of  many  agreeable  and  even  necessary  articles  of 
9* 


102        WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE 

food.  The  Augustine  monks,  who  live  on  the  top  of  the 
Great  St.  Bernard,  complain  of  the  scarcity  of  fuel,  as  being 
particularly  inconvenient  to  them,  because  the  water  used  in 
cookinor  food,  boils  there  at  so  low  a  temperature  as  to  re- 
quire a  very  prolonged  application  of  heat,  and  a  consequent 
profuse  expenditure  of  fuel.  Travellers  acquainted  with  the 
subject  ought  long  since  to  have  rectified  this  evil,  by  telling 
them  to  put  salt  into  the  water,  for  all  such  processes  as  are 
compatible  with  its  presence,  and  in  other  cases  to  apply 
pressure.  Were  the  temperature  of  boiling  water  much 
Usher  than  it  now  is,  we  should  be  deprived  of  the  advan- 
tage at  present  derived  from  many  convenient  materials 
used  in  the  construction  of  culinary  instruments,  whose  safe- 
ty depends  on  the  limitation  of  heat  by  the  escape  of  vapor. 
But  the  particular  temperature  at  which  water  boils  is  far  re- 
moved from  that  of  the  ebullition  of  any  other  liquid.  Ether 
boils  at  98°  F.,  alcohol  at  173°.  5,  spirits  of  turpentine  at 
316°,  and  mercury  and  oil  at  from  649°  to  650°. 

The  vapor  of  water  requires,  for  its  production  and  con- 
tinuance, a  remarkable  quantity  of  heat.  A  pound  of  steam, 
although  of  the  same  temperature  as  boiling  water,  holds 
enough  of  caloric  to  make  a  pound  of  water  red  hot,  if  it 
were  possible  to  keep  the  water  liquid  at  such  a  heat.  This 
is  proved  by  forcing  the  steam  into  ten  pounds  of  water, 
which  will  be  raised  to  100  degrees ;  but  if  ten  pounds  are 
raised  to  100,  one  pound  would  be  raised  to  1000  degrees; 
and  that  is  a  temperature  visibly  red  in  the  day-time.  There 
is  no  other  liquid  whose  vapor  is  endowed  with  any  thing  like 
the  same  degree  of  power  of  absorbing  heat ;  hence  this  may 
be  enumerated  among  the  many  peculiarities  of  water. 

Water  does  not  give  off  vapor  alone  at  the  boiling  point. 
Even  ice  yields  a  portion  of  steam,  and  at  all  ordinary  tem- 
peratures evaporation  is  in  action.  Less  when  the  water  is 
cold,  it  augments  as  the  temperature  is  increased,  until  at 
212°  it  is  as  rapid  as  possible.  The  extraordinary  absorption 
of  heat  by  vapor  necessarily  renders  evaporation  a  cooling 
process  ;  and  as  the  quantity  of  vapor  is  proportional  nearly  to 
the  heat,  so  is  the  refrigeration.  To  this  property  of  water 
we  are  indebted  for  the  possibility  of  living  in  tropical  regions, 
and  f  jr  much  of  the  coolness  of  the  summers  of  more  tem- 
perate zones.  We  are  naturally  surprised  at  observing  that 
the  breeze  which  cools  our  bodies  produces  no  effect  of  that 
kind  on  the  thermometer ;  but  our  wonder  ceases,  when  we 
consider  that  the  moisture  on  the  skin  is  vaporized,  and  that 
the  vapor  absorbs  a  great  quantity  of  heat,  while  the  ther- 


WATER,    AS    A    ChEMICAL    SUBSTANCE.  103 

mometer,  being  dry,  is  only  of  the  temperature  of  the  air, 
whether  still  or  in  motion.  A  few  drops  of  water,  placed  on 
its  bulb,  will  enable  the  breeze  to  lower  its  mercurial  column, 
and  prove  that  evaporation  is  a  cooling  process.  In  climates 
in  which  ice  is  not  formed,  the  inhabitants  cool  wine  and 
other  liquids  by  wetting  the  vessels  which  contain  them,  and 
placing  them  in  a  rapid  current  of  air.  The  power  of 
quenching  flame  and  extinguishing  fire,  so  remarkable  in 
water,  depends  mainly  on  the  refrigerating  action  of  the  steam. 
If  steam  were  formed  only  at  high  temperatures,  we  should 
never  be  able  to  throw  enough  of  water  on  a  conflagration  to 
arrest  its  progress.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  boiling  point 
were  as  low  as  that  of  ether,  we  should  be  frozen  even  in 
summer,  as  may  be  demonstrated  by  the  familiar  experiment 
of  solidifying  water  by  the  evaporation  of  ether  from  its 
surface. 

As  the  formation  of  vapor  cools  the  plains  and  the  valleys, 
so  its  liquefaction  or  solidification  tempers  the  severity  of  the 
coldness  of  mountains  and  table  lands.  Rain  affords  heat, 
as  it  is  formed  out  of  vapor,  and  the  production  of  snow  is 
only  effected  by  the  discharge  of  a  great  amount  of  caloric 
Hence  we  say,  '  It  is  too  cold  for  snow,'  because  we  always 
observe,  even  at  the  surface  of  the  earth,  the  warming  in- 
fluence of  the  radiant  caloric  which  comes  down  from  the 
snow-clouds  as  invisible  particles  are  aggregating  into  snow- 
flakes.  It  is  highly  probable  that  the  heat,  extricated  by  the 
snow  which  is  first  formed,  prevents  the  degree  of  cold  by 
which  more  might  be  produced,  and  thus  sets  a  limit  to  the 
quantity,  and  prevents  a  too  heavy  fall,  by  which  the  earth 
might  be  covered  to  an  inconvenient  or  destructive  depth. 
Were  it  not  for  the  immense  evolution  of  heat  when  rain  and 
snow  are  formed,  the  mountains  and  higher  table  lands  would 
not  be  habitable.  But  the  air  of  these  lofty  regions  is  con- 
tinually warmed  by  the  caloric,  which,  brought  up  by  evapo- 
ration from  the  sultry  plains  and  valleys,  is  extricated  in  the 
middle  air  by  the  rain-drop  and  the  snow-flake. 

Thus  water  is,  as  it  were,  the  regulator  or  balance-wheel 
of  temperature,  acting  on  the  production  and  limitation  of 
heat,  as  the  governor  of  a  steam  engine  does  on  the  admis- 
sion of  vapor  and  the  movements  of  the  machinery. 

The  solvent  poioers  of  water  are  very  various  and  extensive 
With  the  exception  of  a  very  few  earths  and  some  metals 
almost  every  thing  terrestrial  is  soluble  in  water.  In  the 
springs  and  rivers,  therefore,  we  find  traces  of  numerous  sub- 
stances usually  solid — lime,  magnesia,    oxides  and  salts  of 


104        WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE. 

metals,  soda,  potassa,  muriatic,  sulphuric,  carbonic  acids,  an- 
imal and  vegetable  products,  and  a  great  variety  of  simple  and 
compounded  gases.  Besides  the  solvent  property,  water  has, 
from  its  peculiar  specific  gravity,  the  power  of  holding  in 
mere  mechanical  suspension  the  parts  of  soils  of  most  fer- 
tilizing efficacy.  By  means  of  these  properties  this  wonder- 
ful liquid  is  able  to  bring  up  from  the  deep  recesses  of  the 
earth,  and  down  from  the  inaccessible  hills,  the  ruins  of  rocks 
and  soils,  to  enrich  the  surface,  and  to  extend  agricultural 
districts.  By  imbibing,  too,  the  most  active  constituents  of 
the  atmosphere,  which  it  does  in  a  peculiarly  high  degree, 
water  carries  carbonic  acid  and  oxygen  to  the  roots  of  vege- 
tables, and  thus  contributes  to  the  improvement  of  the  nutri- 
tious qualities  of  the  soil. 

Next  to  oxygen,*  the  most  important  substance  held  in 
solution  in  water,  is  common  salt  (chloride  of  sodium) ;  and  of 
all  solids,  common  salt  is  most  potent  in  lowering  the  freezing 
temperature  of  water.  It  is  undoubtedly  for  this  reason  among 
others,  that  the  great  deep  is  filled  with  salt ;  for  the  many 
evils  to  ensue  from  a  frozen  ocean  are  obvious.  It  is  certain 
that  fresh  water  seas  near  the  poles  of  the  earth  would  become 
entirely  solid  ;  the  frozen  mass  would  extend  by  degrees  to- 
wards the  south  ;  and  it  is  far  from  demonstrable  that  the  very 
equatorial  regions  would  not  become  submissive  to  the  sway 
of  a  perpetual  winter.  But  there  is  one  very  important  rea- 
son for  the  saltness  of  the  ocean  which  has  been  commonly 
overlooked.  The  gas  called  carbonic  acid,  or  fixed  air,  is 
one  of  the  constituents  of  the  atmosphere,  which  has,  as  such, 
a  variety  of  uses.  Fresh  water  absorbs  its  own  volume  or 
measure  of  this  gas,  and  for  that  reason  carbonic  acid  is 
proportionably  less  near  to  the  surface  of  the  earth  than  in 
higher  regions.  If,  in  addition  to  the  absorbent  power  of 
lakes,  rivers,  and  spongy  soils,  the  ocean  were  to  act  on  car- 
bonic acid  with  its  vastly-extended  surface,  there  would  be 
soon  perceived  a  great  deficiency  of  this  gas,  which  is  the 
food  of  plants,  the  enlivener  of  water,  the  neutralizer  of  lime, 
and  of  the  oxides.  But  brine,  or  water  holding  salts  in  so- 
lution, does  not  readily  absorb  carbonic  acid,  even  when  the 
gas  is  pure ;  much  less  will  it  abstract  it  from  the  vast  dis- 
proportion of  common  air  with  which  it  is  commingled.  Nay, 
more  ;  from  some  experiments  I  have  recently  made,  I  am 
entitled  to  believe  that  when  the  fresh  waters,  charged  with 

*  ^xyfft^n  is  that  gas  which  enters  into  the  composition  of  atmospheric  air, 
and  this  latter,  in  virtue  of  it,  is  fitted  for  respiration  and  supporting  combus- 
tion, &c. 


WATER,    AS    A    CHEMICAL    SUBSTANCE.  105 

carbonic  acid  and  oxygen,  roll  their  enriching  streams  to  the 
ocean,  the  briny  floods  compel  them  to  disgorge  the  portion 
of  these  gaseous  treasures  which  had  escaped  the  respiratory 
organs  of  the  fishes,  and  the  absorbent  vessels  of  aquatic 
plants.  Thus  the  ocean  restores  to  the  atmospliere  what  had 
been  taken  from  it  by  the  streams ;  and  the  air,  impoverished 
by  the  lakes  and  rivers,  becomes  again  enriched  by  the  boun- 
ty of  the  ocean. 

Salt  is  an  indispensable  article  of  food,  as  necessary  to  life 
as  air  or  water.  Its  universal  distribution  is  due  to  the 
water  of  the  ocean,  which  brings  it  from  the  deep  recesses  of 
the  earth  to  the  shores  of  every  land.  Water  is  the  only 
known  liquid  capable  of  so  diffusing  it  ;  for  in  pure  alcohol, 
or  ether,  or  mercury,  it  is  totally  insoluble. 

Salt  water  has  but  little  power  of  penetrating  into  the 
minute  interstices  of  bodies,  so  that  any  thing  of  a  fine  porous 
texture  remains  in  it  unchanged  for  a  long  time ;  and  as  the 
gases  are  not,  at  least  in  large  proportion,  present  in  brine, 
salt  water  is  eminently  preservative.  It  acts  feebly  itself,  and 
does  not  convey  destructive  agents;  hence  seeds  of  plants 
float  over  the  ocean  thousands  of  miles  to  the  islands  which 
adorn  its  face,  and  there,  meeting  with  soil  and  fresh  water, 
beautify  and  improve  the  country  of  their  adoption.  In  a 
fresh  water  ocean,  they  would  germinate,  rot,  and  perish,  long 
before  such  a  voyage  could  be  completed. 

For  the  same  reason,  salt  water  does  not  readily  sink  into 
the  porous  earth  of  the  sides  and  bottoms  of  the  great  oceans. 
The  unfathomable  depth  of  the  sea,  and  the  conseqirent  vast- 
ness  of  the  pressure  on  its  bottom,  would,  but  for  its  saltness, 
force  the  water  far  and  wide  into  the  recesses  of  the  earth, 
and  withdraw  a  large  portion  of  it  irom  its  present  situation. 
At  the  same  time,  if  salt  water  were  as  penetrant  as  fresh 
water,  there  would  be  scarcely  a  spring  but  of  brine — scarce- 
ly a  fountain  but  what  would  savor  of  Neptunian  influence. 
But  while  the  salt  detains  the  water  from  the  pores  of  the 
earth,  it  has  little  power  of  withholding  it  from  the  fields  of 
air.  Evaporation  goes  on  from  the  surface  of  the  great  deep 
with  little  interruption  from  the  salts  which  are  there  in  solu- 
tion :  and  the  vapor  leaves  them  so  entirely,  that  not  often  can 
there  be  detected  the  slightest  adulteration,  even  at  its  source. 
From  this  mighty  magazine  of  water  much  of  the  liquid  is 
conveyed  to  the  higher  regions  of  the  air,  to  be  precipitated 
in  fertilizing  and  saltless  rain  or  dew  on  the  continents  and 
islands.  Dr.  Thomson  has  made  very  elaborate  calcula- 
tions to  show  that  one  ninth  of  the  rain  which  falls  in  Great 


106         WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE. 

Britain  must  l)e  furnished  by  the  ocean,  because  the  evapo- 
ration, even  from  the  watery  surface  of  England,  is  that 
much  less  than  the  quantity  of  rain  annually  precipitated  on 
it.  The  ocean  annually  sends,  therefore,  to  enrich  the  soil 
of  Great  Britain,  nearly  eighteen  billions  of  tons  of  water — a 
quantity  sufficient  to  cover  the  whole  surface  of  the  island 
four  inches  deep. 

Fishes  breathe  the  same  air  that  is  respired  by  ourselves ; 
but  it  is  only  when  held  in  solution  in  water  that  they  are 
able  to  transmit  it  through  the  gills,  which  serve  in  them  the 
S3.me  purpose  as  lungs.  Water  is  invested  with  the  power  of 
absorbing  and  holding  air  in  solution  ;  and  indeed  it  is  said, 
on  good  authority,  that  oxygen  is  absorbed  in  greater  pro- 
portion than  nitrogen,*  and  that  in  rain  water  there  is  more 
than  in  common  water,  and  that  snow  water  holds  most  of 
all.  Besides  the  still  surfaces  of  deep  rivers,  and  of  great 
lakes,  which  are  continually  absorbing  air,  that  fertilizing 
and  vivifying  fluid  is  forced  into  more  rapid  commixture  with 
water  at  the  ripples  and  waterfalls.  In  such  places,  for  this, 
among  other  reasons,  aquatic  animals  love  to  congregate  and 
to  sport ;  and  it  is  thither  the  skilful  angler  repairs,  to  ex- 
hibit his  baits,  and  to  decoy  his  victims. 

It  is  known  that  when  water  is  heated  to  212°  Fahr.,  it 
begins  to  boil,  and  that  a  portion  of  it  is  forced  off  in  the 
condition  of  subtile  elastic  vapor  called  steam.  Most  persons 
have  also  observed  that,  much  below  the  boiling  temperature, 
a  visible  vapor  is  given  off  by  water ;  and  the  more  observant 
have  discovered  that,  at  common  temperatures,  water  is  grad- 
ually but  imperceptibly  removed  from  an  open  vessel,  and  dis- 
sipated into  thin  air.  But  it  is  only  those  who  have  studied 
this  subject,  who  are  aware  that  at  any  temperature,  however 
low,  water  is  ever  disposed  to  escape  into  the  air,  and  that 
even  ice  gives  off  vapor  of  sensible  elasticity.  But  the  rate 
of  evaporation  being  made  dependent,  not  on  the  air,  as  is 
commonly  believed,  but  on  the  temperature,  it  is  at  18^^  Fahr. 
only  as  2 ;  at  38°  as  4  ;  at  79^^  as  16 ;  at  100°  as  32," and  at 
212°,  the  boiling  point,  512.  If  it  depended  on  the  attrac- 
tion of  the  air,  and  went  on  as  rapidly  in  cold  as  in  warm 
climates,  the  former  would  be  plundered  of  its  caloric,  and 
its  regions  become  deserted  and  desolate.  Another  evil 
would  be,  the  enormous  amount  of  snow  which  would  in 
winter  cover  the  northern  plains  of   Europe   and  America, 

*  Nitro^-en,  or  azote,  is  another  constituent  element  of  atmospheric  air,  dif- 
ferent from  og-yg'en  :  its  effects  are  chiefly  negative.  It  would  seem  to  serve  as 
a  diluent  of  oxygen. 


WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE.         107 

bury  them  beyond  the  recovery  of  their  longest  summer,  and 
by  gradual  change  of  climate  encroach  on,  and  confine  to 
narrow  limits  some  of  the  now  most  delicious  regions  of  the 
earth.  In  tropical  climates,  the  rain  which  falls  annually 
may  be  rated  at  from  80  to  125  inches ;  in  temperate  regions, 
at  from  30  to  40  inches,  or  less  than  one  half;  and  in  cold 
countries,  at  from  10  to  20,  or  less  than  one  sixth.  Now,  as 
the  rain  is  a  pretty  good  gauge  of  the  evaporation,  the  refrig- 
erating process  is,  in  very  cold  climates,  one  sixth,  and  in 
temperate  ones  one  half,  of  the  amount  of  that  which  obtains 
in  the  torrid  zone. 

As  there  is  a  cogent  reason  for  almost  inadequate  evapora- 
tion in  cold  countries,  the  rain  in  them  descends  in  gentle 
and  prolonged  showers  or  in  very  irrigating  mists.  Very 
littleof  the  water,  therefore,  escapes  over  the  surface,  so  as  to 
be  lost ;  but  most  of  it  quietly  sinks  into  the  earth,  and  moist- 
ens the  roots  of  plants  and  flowers,  or  flows  out  again  through 
springs  and  fountains.  But  in  tropical  countries,  where,  for 
refrigerating  uses,  too  much  water  loads  the  air,  it  is  precip- 
itated to  the  earth  in  impetuous  showers,  and  flowing  rapidly 
over  the  soil,  escapes  by  the  streams  and  rivers  to  the  ocean. 
Hence  we  observe  that  the  number  of  rainy  days  is  smallest 
at  the  equator,  and  increases  as  we  advance  tow^ards  the  poles. 
From  north  latitude  12°  to  43°,  the  mean  number  of  rainy 
days  is  78 ;  from  43°  to  4G°,  103  ;  from  4G°  to  50°,  134  ;  and 
from  50°  to  60°,  161.  The  number  of  rainy  days,  then,  is,  in 
latitude  60°,  rather  more  than  double  that,  at  or  near  the  equa- 
tor ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  the  quantity  of  rain  at  the  equa- 
tor is  five  or  six  times  as  great  as  at  60°.  Evaporation,  for  the 
uses  of  the  world,  should  be  greatest  in  warm,  and  least  in 
cold  climates;  and  it  is  so,  both  because  of  the  influence  of 
heat  in  promoting,  and  of  moist  weather  in  retardinn  it. 

Were  the  rain  to  fall  in  tropical  regions  as  it  does  in 
higher  latitudes,  the  total  destruction  of  animated  things 
would  inevitably  ensue.  Plants  would  perish  in  their  own 
luxuriancy,  or,  blighted  by  mildew,  be  sacrificed  to  the  para- 
sitic vegetables  fastened  to  their  leaves,  blossoms,  and  fruits, 
by  the  excessive  moisture.  Animals,  no  longer  able  to  throw 
off  the  redundant  moisture  of  the  body,  by  the  skin  and  the 
lungs,  into  an  air  already  saturated  with  water,  would  become 
lymphatic,  excessively  glandular,  and  diseases  of  loathsome 
and  lingering  aspect  would  desolate  the  tropical  regions. 
But,  suddenly  precipitated  from  the  air,  the  moisture  is 
speedily  reduced  far  below  the  point  of  saturatior.. — the  '  dew 
point ' ;  and  then  a  more  rapid  evaporation  from  the  earth, 


108        WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE. 

and  the  surface  of  animated  bodies,  tempers  the  breath  of  a 
burning  clime,  and  renders  not  only  habitable,  but  agreeable, 
regions  of  the  world  where,  but  for  this  curious  distinction, 
none  but  aquatic  animals  or  reptiles  could  exist. 

When  the  vapor  escapes  from  water,  and  begins  to  ascend 
in  the  air,  it  soon  reaches  a  higher  and  colder  place  in  the 
atmosphere,  and  might  be  reconverted  into  water,  and  fall 
back  almost  immediately  into  the  sea,  or  other  source  of  sup- 
ply. But,  under  the  operation  of  yet  unknown  causes,  the 
vapor,  instead  of  aggregating  into  drops  of  spherical  shape 
and  considerable  density,  is  inflated  into  thin,  filmy  vesicles, 
little  bladders  of  water,  filled  with  air,  which,  of  nearly  the 
same  gravity  with  the  air  of  the  cloud  region,  float  in  curious- 
ly-congregated masses  to  even  distant  countries,  and  there, 
suddenly  bursting  by  means  equally  unknown,  they  descend 
in  drops  of  rain.  It  is  to  this  very  singular  property  of 
watery  vapor  that  we  are  indebted  for  all  that  rain  which  is 
received  by  the  land  from  the  ocean,  and  for  the  shadows 
which  clouds  spread  over  a  'weary  land.'  The  elder  Saus- 
sure  saw,  in  the  high  Alps,  these  vesicles  floating  around  him; 
and,  although  many  of  them  were  very  small,  some  were  as 
large  as  a  pea,  and,  of  course,  large  enough  to  bear  ocular 
examination.  If  the  clouds  were  not  formed  of  such  vesicles, 
we  should  see  a  rainbow  in  every  one,  when  the  observer 
stood  between  it  and  the  sun.  But  it  is  only  to  the  dissolu- 
tion of  the  cloud  that  we  are  indebted  for  the  magnificent 
security  against  a  future  flood, — "  the  bow  of  heaven  com- 
plete,"— set  in  the  fields  of  ether  as  a  signal  expression  of 
the  divine  will  that  there  shall  not  again  be  drawn  over  the 
fair  face  of  nature  the  deforming  veil  of  the  deluge. 

Independently  of  clouds  and  visible  vapor,  the  very  driest 
atmosphere  contains  a  considerable  quantity  of  water,  in  a 
perfectly  aeriform  state.  This  invisible  aqueous  air  varies 
in  quantity  in  different  places,  and  in  the  same  place  at  dif- 
ferent times.  Amidst  the  burning  wastes  of  Africa,  it  is  so 
little  as  to  be  scarcely  appreciable ;  while,  in  the  winter,  on 
the  stormy  coast  of  western  Scotland,  the  atmospheric  air  is 
almost  always  saturated  with  it.  That  its  presence  is  neces- 
sary to  plants,  every  one  knows,  who  has  observed  their 
shrivelled  aspect  in  an  arid  summer,  even  when  carefully 
watered  at  the  roots ;  and  he  who  has  been  compelled  to  bury 
his  face  in  the  earth  to  escape  the  fiery  breath  of  the  simoom, 
knows  how  intolerable  is  the  purest  atmosphere  from  which 
water  is  excluded.  From  this  invisible  vapor,  of  which  I 
have  just  spoken,  is  derived  the  dew  of  a  clear  evening,  the 


WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE.         109 

big  drops  which  trickle  down  the  tumbler,  when,  in  sumniCT, 
cold  water  is  poured  into  it,  the  mist  which  hovers  over  the 
cold  stream,  and  the  vapor  which  enshrouds  an  iceberg. 
But  the  vapor  which  is  put  to  so  many  important  uses,  and  is 
so  agreeable  to  the  skin  and  the  lungs,  gratifies  also  another 
sense.  That  blueness  of  the  firmament — that  bright  and 
beautifiil  blue,  sung  by  so  many  poets,  likened  to  so  many 
eyes,  the  chief  glory  of  an  Italian  landscape — is  the  offspring 
of  the  vapor  of  water ;  and  the  traveller  of  the  highest  Alps 
knows,  that  when  he  has  surmounted  the  region  of  water,  in 
his  perilous  journey,  the  heavens  become  black  and  sombrous, 
and  the  bright  stars  are  seen  in  a  sky  of  jet.  The  same  wa- 
ter, therefore,  which  is  exhaled  for  rain  and  dew,  tempers 
the  air  for  the  tender  leaflet  and  the  unfolding  blossom,  en- 
riches it  for  the  breath,  makes  it  bahny  for  the  skin,  and  tints 
it  with  an  exquisite  color  for  the  gratification  of  the  eye. 
Perfectly  inodorous  itself,  the  moisture  of  the  air  is  the  con- 
stant vehicle  of  the  sweetest  perfumes,  most  of  which  are  in- 
capable of  assuming  an  aerial  state  without  its  agency.  How 
quickly  we  perceive  the  fragrance  of  the  parterre  after  a  show- 
er !  and  how  rich  is  the  odor  of  the  woodland  when  the  spring 
rain  has  waked  its  sweetness !  But  there  is  another  curious 
function  performed  by  the  atmospheric  vapor.  By  means, 
most  of  which  are  yet  unknown  to  philosophy,  a  great  quan- 
tity of  electricity  is  collected  in  the  atmosphere.  Among  the 
knoivn  causes  of  its  presence,  there  may  be  enumerated  the 
ascent  of  vapor,  the  friction  of  currents  of  air  against  each 
other,  and  against  the  plains  and  mountains  of  the  terrestrial 
surface.  In  whatever  manner  conveyed  thither,  we  know 
that  it  is  concentrated  by  the  gradual  coalescence  of  vapor 
as  it  fashions  itself  into  clouds,  and  that  thence,  when  the 
tension  is  beyond  the  capacity  of  its  recipient,  the  lightning 
dashes  out  from  the  thunder-cloud,  either  to  the  earth  from 
which  it  came,  or  into  some  other  feebly-charged  '  pavilion 
of  darkness.'  At  some  of  the  uses  of  these  mighty  manifes- 
tations of  the  sublime,  we  can  only  vaguely  guess ;  but  there 
are  others  of  plainest  import.  If  it  is  as  yet  a  hypothesis, 
that  electrical  agency  converts  into  carbonic  acid  and  water 
hurtful,  combustible  impurities,  forever  rising  into  the  air  from 
stagnant  pools,  extended  morasses,  and  the  thousand  sources 
of  oxidizement  by  the  decomposition  of  water,  still  it  is  cer- 
tain that,  after  a  thunder-storm,  the  heavens  are  serener ;  the 
sky  brighter ;  the  air  cooler ;  the  verdure  more  varied  ;  the 
flowers  fresher ;  and  man  himself  more  vigorous  and  elastic. 
There  is  not,  after  a  thunder-gust,  that  humid  feeling  in  the 
10 


110        WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE. 

breath  of  nature,  which  follows  a  wintry  rain ;  but  the  elec- 
trical battery,  expelling  every  redundant  particle  of  moisture, 
gives  to  the  breeze  its  most  exhilarating  qualities.  It  is, 
then,  to  the  batteries  of  vapor,  terrible  as  they  are,  that  we 
are  indebted  for  the  exemption  which  our  summer  months 
claim  from  mists,  and  prolonged  rains,  and  for  the  perfect 
precipitation  of  moisture,  and  the  subsequent  rapid  evapora- 
tion. They  are  the  chief  cause  of  the  balm,  the  dryness,  and 
the  coolness  of  the  breath  of  summer  ;  and  but  for  them,  liow 
many  gardens  of  the  south  would  be  turned  into  desolated 
wilds  1 

The  chemical  history  of  water  is  equally  curious  and  in- 
structive. The  soft,  bland,  nutritious  liquid  is  not,  as  sup- 
posed by  the  ancients,  and  even  our  immediate  progenitors, 
a  simple  or  uncompounded  substance,  but  it  infolds  in  its 
mild  bosom  two  of  the  most  formidable  elements  to  be  found 
in  the  storehouse  of  nature.  Oxygen,  the  chief  agent  of 
combustion,  the  very  king  of  fire,  and  hydrogen,  the  most 
inflammable  of  gases,  are  the  constituents  of  the  water  which 
quenches  flame  and  extinguishes  combustion.  Tied  together 
by  the  bonds  of  affinity,  these  two  substances  are  continually 
separated  from  each  other  by  the  many  things  which  have 
attraction  for  either.  In  this  manner,  both  of  the  constitu- 
ents of  water  exert  a  most  important  influence  over  the 
chemistry  of  nature.  It  is  at  the  expense  of  the  oxygen  of 
water  that  metals  are  rusted  and  reduced  to  an  earthy  state  ; 
for  it  seldom  happens  that  the  air  gives  oxygen  for  such  pur- 
poses. It  is  by  the  decomposition  of  water  that  plants  are 
enabled  to  give  back  to  the  atmosphere  the  oxygen  which 
has  been  removed  by  the  respiration  of  animals,  and  thus  to 
sustain  the  purity  of  the  air.  As  we  advance  in  the  process 
of  investigation,  we  shall  learn  that  most  chemical  phenomena 
are  explicable  chiefly  by  the  reaction  of  water  or  its  elements. 
Water  gives  to  solids  the  liquid  state  essential  to  their  mutual 
action  ;  for  neither  the  solid  nor  aeriform  state  is  favorable  to 
chemical  changes.  Water,  by  its  powers  of  solution  and 
evaporation,  first  impresses  on  a  solid  a  liquid  character,  and 
then,  by  slowly  abandoning  it,  gives  it  time  to  aggregate  in  a 
harmonious  order  ;  and  thence  we  derive  the  pleasure  and  the 
profit  of  crystallography. 

Water,  endowed  with  extraordinary  absorbent  power,  espe- 
cially for  the  deleterious  gases,  removes  them  from  the  air  as 
fast  as  they  are  produced ;  and  thus  it  is  that  carbonic  acid, 
sulphureted  hydrogen,  muriatic  acid,  sulphurous  acid,  and 
chlorine,  have  been  prevented  from  long  since  rendering  the 


WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE.         Ill 

fair  earth  on  which  we  dwell  a  sterile  waste.  It  is  water 
which,  holding  in  solution  the  aliment  of  plants  and  animals, 
is  the  source  of  their  vigor  and  beauty.  Penetrating  animal 
and  vegetable  tissues  with  a  facility  given  to  no  other  liquid, 
it  is  able  to  carry  with  it  a  portion  of  food  into  the  deepest 
recesses  of  life.  What  enables  the  blood  to  flow  in  veins  and 
arteries?  Water.  What  swells  out  the  sap-vessels  of  plants, 
brings  out  the  sugar  from  the  maple  and  cane,  and  thrusts 
forth  the  incense  from  out  the  rose  and  the  shrub?  It  is 
water.  What  gives  to  the  '  human  form  divine  '  its  plump- 
ness and  symmetry  ?  Water,  water.  A  dried  plant  weighs 
but  a  small  fraction  of  a  green  one,  and  a  human  being  of 
125  lbs.  was,  when  dried  thoroughly,  only  of  the  weight  of 
18  lbs. ;  the  rest  was  water.  But  for  the  water  which  lodges 
in  the  membranes  and  blood-vessels  of  the  lungs,  the  carbonic 
acid  would  not  leave  the  blood,  and  the  vital  stream  could 
not  long  continue  to  nourish  the  frame  and  invigorate  the 
organs. — But  this  is  not  all.  Water  abounds  in  every  part 
of  plants  and  animals,  and  is  constantly  undergoing  decom- 
position, imparting  one  element  to  one  organ,  another  to 
another — becoming,  as  water  or  its  elements,  a  constituent 
part  of  bone,  muscle,  nerve,  sinew.  Few  of  the  acids  can 
exist,  at  least  usefully,  without  the  assistance  of  water.  It  is 
essential  to  the  existence  of  aquafortis ;  gives  all  its  extraor- 
dinary utility  to  oil  of  vitriol ;  adds  all  its  valuable  qualities 
to  marine  acid,  and  prevents  vinegar  from  either  becoming 
solid  or  perishing.  But  I  am  now  on  a  catalogue  of  almost 
infinite  extent  and  importance,  and  a  bare  enunciation  of  the 
peculiar  chemical  agency  of  water  would  fill  a  volume. 

It  is  a  favorite  maxim  of  natural  theologists,  that  the  Great 
Builder  of  the  universe  created  things  not  only  for  nature,  but 
the  arts;  and  that  he  impressed  on  matter  properties,  not  only 
to  serve  in  the  great  field  of  spontaneous  action,  but  to  be- 
come submissive,  at  a  distant  day,  to  the  artist,  for  the  pro- 
motion of  the  comfort  and  improvement  of  man ;  for  exam- 
ple, that  the  faithfulness  of  the  dog,  and  the  docility  of  the 
horse,  were  to  be  the  future  means  of  attachment  and  sub- 
mission ;  that  the  malleability  of  gold,  the  toughness  of  iron, 
and  the  hardness  of  steel,  were  but  preparation  for  the  gilder, 
the  wheelwright,  and  the  cutler.  On  the  same  principle,  we 
perceive,  in  the  very  peculiar  qualities  of  the  vapor  of  water, 
a  nice  and  discriminating  adaptation  to  the  future  wants  of 
highly-civilized  man.  No  other  steam  but  that  of  water 
could  give  impulsion  to  the  steam  engine.  Either  too  corro- 
sive, or  too  dense,  or  of  too  great  a  temperature,  the  vapors 


112         WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE. 

of  acids,  or  of  ether,  or  alcohol,  or  mercury,  could  not  be 
made  applicable  to  the  propulsion  of  a  boat,  or  the  progres- 
sion of  a  car.  As  there  is  no  faithful  guardian  but  the  dog, 
no  useful  courser  but  the  horse,  so  there  is  no  propeller  of 
locomotives  but  steam.  At  precisely  the  heat  of  steam  of 
low  pressure,  there  is  not  such  an  excess  of  temperature  as 
to  very  rapidly  convey  it  to  surrounding  objects ;  but  if  we 
were  compelled  to  double  the  heat  every  time  we  duplicated 
the  power,  we  should  have  feeble  engines,  in  the  place  of  the 
potent  machinery  now  at  our  command.  At  212°  above  zero, 
steam  equals  in  power  the  pressure  of  one  atmosphere,  that  is, 
15  lbs.,  on  each  square  inch;  and  to  make  even  a  low-pres- 
sure engine  work  well,  it  must  have  a  steam  equal  to  nearly 
half  an  atmosphere  more ;  but  if  a  proportional  heat  were 
necessary,  the  temperature  would  be  not  less  than  303°,  at 
which  the  loss,  from  the  contact  of  air  and  from  radiant  diffu- 
sion, would  be  immense.  But  to  work  a  high-pressure  engine, 
the  form  of  the  instrument  indispensable  to  locomotives,  the 
heat  necessary  for  action  would  be  from  1000°  to  1600  or  1700°, 
at  the  lowest  of  which  temperatures,  we  should  have  red-hot 
boilers,  red-hot  cylinders,  unpacked  joints,  corroded  surfaces, 
abundance  of  hydrogen,  frequent  explosions,  and  the  aban- 
donment of  expensive  and  almost  unmanageable  engines.  But, 
providentially,  the  density  of  steam  is  much  more  than  propor- 
tionally increased  by  increasing  temperature ;  and  although 
steam  of  one  atmosphere  is  at  212°  of  Fahr.,  steam  of  two 
atmospheres  is  only  at  250° ;  of  three  atmospheres,  at  272° ; 
of  four  atmospheres,  at  290° ;  or,  while  212*^  are  required  to 
produce  an  elfect  equal  to  1,  only  40°  more  are  necessary  to 
produce  an  effect  equal  to  2;  22°  to  produce  3;  and  18°  to 
produce  4.  Or,  rising  from  275°,  18^  of  increased  tempera- 
ture give  an  effect  equal  to  that  created  by  an  elevation  of 
212°,  counting  from  zero ;  and  at  or  near  to  a  temperature 
the  double  of  that  of  boiling  water,  steam  exerts  a  power  about 
40  or  50  times  as  great;  affording,  at  a  heat  easily  borne  by 
metals,  and  not  destructive  to  the  '  stuffing '  of  joints,  a 
steam  much  more  than  adequate  to  the  production  of  all  de- 
sirable power. 

The  enormous  capacity  of  water  for  heat  is  of  the  highest 
im|)ortance  to  the  usefulness  of  the  steam  engine.  If  water 
had  a  low  capacity,  its  temperature  would  be  too  easily  alter- 
ed by  fire,  and  sudden  and  explosive  productions  of  steam 
would  continually  endanger  the  safety  of  the  boiler.  Such  a 
result  is  readily  perceived  when  we  heat  ether  or  mercury. 
But  as  water  absorbs  a  great  quantity  of  heat  during  its  ele- 


WATER,  AS  A  CHEMICAL  SUBSTANCE.        113 

vation  to  higher  temperatures,  the  inequality  of  the  action  of 
fire  is  less  perceptible  and  less  dangerous.  Again,  if  steam 
did  not  exhibit  an  equally  high  capacity  for  caloric,  it  would 
be  almost  impossible  to  keep  the  piston  in  motion.  As  it  is, 
a  very  small  quantity  of  steam  affords  heat  enough  to  keep 
up  the  temperature  of  the  cylinder  and  piston,  while  the  re- 
mainder propels  the  engine ;  but  if  it  were  of  low  capacity, 
the  iron  would  condense  the  greater  part  of  the  vapor,  and 
leave  a  quantity  inadequate  to  the  production  of  useful  mo- 
tion. As  the  temperature  rose  in  the  engines  of  higher  pres- 
sure, the  evil  would  become  greater  and  greater ;  and,  at 
length,  the  steam  would  be  incapable  of  supplying  heat 
enough  to  keep  up  the  temperature  of  the  cylinder,  and  the 
machinery  would  cease  to  move. 

Steam  is  a  remarkably  light  vapor — a  matter  of  greater  con- 
sequence than  is  at  first  sight  apparent.  The  vapor  of  water 
is  a  very  little  more  than  half  as  heavy  as  air ;  that  of  alcohol 
is  three  times,  and  of  ether  nearly  five  times  as  heavy  as 
steam.*  The  great  levity  of  watery  vapor  carries  it  immedi- 
ately away  from  the  surface  where  it  is  produced,  and  thus 
frees  the  earth  from  its  excess  of  moisture ;  but  the  vapor  of 
ether  falls  immediately  downwards,  as  may  be  perceived  by 
looking  towards  a  window  through  a  stream  of  it,  as  it  es- 
capes from  an  uncorked  bottle.  If  steam  were  not  among 
the  very  lightest  of  vapors,  it  would  forever  saturate  the  lower 
regions  of  the  air,  fill  all  the  valleys,  and  finally  infold  even 
the  mountains  in  its  damp  embrace,  and  prove  as  disastrous 
as  the  deluo-e  itself,  without  affording  a  medium  on  which 
one  single  ark  could  float.  The  levity  of  watery  vapor 
gives  to  it  particular  adaptation,  too,  to  the  propulsion  of  ma- 
chinery. Every  one  who  has  used  a  forcing-pump  to  con- 
dense different  gases,  must  have  perceived  that  the  task  be- 
comes more  difficult  as  heavier  gases  are  driven  forward,  and 
that  the  condensation,  particularly  easy  with  hydrogen,  is 
very  laborious  with  air  or  carbonic  acid.  In  escaping  from 
the  same  pipe,  under  equal  pressure,  hydrogen  moves  more 
than  three  times  as  rapidly  as  carbonic  acid.  These  singu- 
larities arise  from  both  augmented  friction,  and  greater  weight 
of  matter  to  be  moved.  When,  then,  steam,  for  the  move- 
ment of  an  engine,  is  produced,  it  escapes  with  facility  from 
the  boiler  into  the  cylinder ;  and  through  a  pipe  made  narrow, 
to  lessen  weight,  expense,  and  refrigeration,  a  very  large  vol- 
ume of  vapor  rushes  against  the  piston,  follows  it  with  ease, 

•  Vapor  of  water,  0.62349  ;  absolute  alcohol,  1.606050  5  sub  ether,  2.5860  ;  oil 
of  turpentine,  5.0130. — Gaij  Lussac. 

10* 


114  VEGETATION. 

and  with  the  velocity  of  lightning,  is  either  expelled  into  the 
air,  or  drawn  towards  the  condenser.  An  increased  resist- 
ance, such  as  the  vapor  of  ether  would  make,  along  the  whole 
line  of  operations,  from  boiler  to  condenser,  would  be  a  great 
addition  to  the  expense,  and  no  small  detraction  from  the  ef- 
ficiency of  the  steam  engine. 

Thus,  then,  wherever  we  trace  water,  from  the  vast  depths 
of  ocean  to  the  lofty  fields  of  air,  from  the  gushing  fountains 
to  the  majestic  rivers  and  the  mighty  lakes,  from  its  liquid  to 
its  solid  state,  from  its  icy  hardness  to  its  airy  softness,  in  the 
rainbow  of  the  shower  and  the  blue  of  the  firmament,  thun- 
dering over  the  rocks  of  the  cataract,  or  floating  in  tiny  vesi- 
cles in  the  regions  of  storm  and  cloud,  collecting  the  waste 
electricity  of  the  air,  to  send  it  back  in  sublime  power  to  the 
earth,  regulating  the  temperature  of  earth  and  air,  cooling  the 
breath,  regaling  the  smell,  and  gladdening  the  eye — wherev 
er,  I  say,  we  trace  water,  it  is  ever  useful ;  fulfiling,  as  a  min- 
ister of  His  goodness,  the  will  of  the  great  Contriver  of  the 
universe,  and  affording  the  most  astonishing  proofs  of  his  wis- 
dom as  well  as  of  his  power. 

It  would  require  a  volume  to  furnish  the  most  cursory  no- 
tice of  the  known  phenomena  of  water,  all  of  them  equally 
illustrative  of  the  wisest  and  kindest  agency ;  but  how  much 
remains  yet  unknown,  time  and  progressive  philosophy  can 
alone  demonstrate.  In  the  aqueous  processes  immediately 
around  us,  are  many  things  not  yet  dreamed  of  in  our  philos- 
ophy ;  how  many  more  in  the  fields  of  air,  and  amidst  the 
unfathomed  caves  of  ocean  !  The  expanse  of  the  higher  at- 
mosphere is  seldom  visited  by  man,  and  the  fountains  of  the 
great  deep,  as  well  as  the  windows  of  heaven,  have  not  been 
opened  to  his  inspection.  What  we  do  know,  however,  is 
evidence  of  a  principle  of  action  exerted  as  benevolently  and 
as  sagaciously  in  every  part  of  the  physical  universe  ;  and  we 
cannot  doubt  that  '  The  Jirmament  showeth  his  handiwork, 
and  the  earth  is  full  of  the  goodness  of  the  Lord.^ " 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  GENERAL  APPEARANCE  OF  THE  EARTH,  AND  VEGETATION. 

Had  man  and  the  inferior  animals  been  cast  upon  a  globe 
where  sterility  had  established  a  perpetual  empire,  where  no 
torrent  rushed  from  the  mountain,  no  shower  dropped  on  the 


VEGETATION.  H^ 

field,  and  no  crops  waved  on  the  plain,  they  must  have  per- 
ished. Deep  and  mournful  silence  must  have  reigned  on  the 
dreary  landscape,  without  any  thing  to  enliven  the  solitude 
or  diversify  the  sad  uniformity  of  the  scene.  But  the  earth 
is  liberally  provided  with  means  of  subsistence  to  its  nume- 
rous and  various  inhabitants.  It  exhibits  a  variety  fitted  to 
charm  the  imagination,  to  exercise  the  industry  and  ingenui- 
ty, to  supply  the  wants  and  multiply  the  enjoyments  of  man. 
It  is  a  rich  storehouse,  abundantly  furnished  with  necessaries 
and  comforts  for  every  living  being  which  it  contains.  It  is 
indented  by  arms  of  the  sea,  which  bring  the  treasures  of  the 
deep  into  the  bosom  of  the  dry  land  :  it  is  watered  by  rivers, 
which  at  once  drain  off  superfluous  moisture  and  spread  the 
aliment  of  vegetation  over  their  banks,  and  which  facilitate 
the  communication  between  inland  countries  and  the  sea,  and 
between  the  different  places  contiguous  to  their  stream.  Its 
surface  abounds  with  gentle  undulations ;  sometimes  sinks 
into  deep  valleys,  or  rises  into  lofty  mountains  ;  but,  gene- 
rally speaking,  the  farther  it  recedes  from  the  ocean,  the 
higher  it  rises  above  the  level  of  the  waters  ;  so  that  rivers 
run  towards  the  sea,  and,  in  most  cases,  marshes  may  be 
drained.  The  high  lands  serve  as  a  reservoir  for  supplying 
springs  and  rivers,  and  shelter  the  lower  grounds.  The 
mountain  and  the  valley  furnish  each  a  proper  soil  for  plants 
of  different  kinds. 

Even  the  bowels  of  the  earth  are  replenished  with  mate- 
rials which  can  be  turned  to  the  comfort  and  accommodation 
of  mankind.  Thence  is  digged  the  ore  of  iron,  the  most  use- 
ful, and  the  most  abundant  also,  of  all  the  metals.  There 
are  found  gold  and  silver  which  serve  as  the  medium  of  ex- 
change. Several  minerals  are  possessed  of  much  medicinal 
virtue  ;  and  some  fossil  substances  serve  for  fuel  and  other 
valuable  purposes.  The  face  of  the  earth  is  adorned  and 
enriched  with  a  great  variety  of  vegetables,  each  propagating 
its  kind  ;  for  every  plant,  as  well  as  every  animal,  proceeds  in 
one  way  or  another  from  a  parent  of  the  same  kind  with 
itself  The  doctrine  of  equivocal  generation  exists  only  in 
the  visions  of  an  unenlightened  imagination  :  it  has  no  place 
in  the  provinces  of  nature. 

The  anatomy  and  physiology  of  vegetables  might  furnish 
us,  even  in  the  present  imperfect  state  of  our  knowledge  of 
these  subjects,  with  many  curious  and  interesting  observa- 
tions ;  but  I  purpose  merely  to  make  a  few  remarks,  in  order 
to  show  that  the  hand  of  the  wise  and  good  Being  who  mani- 


116  VEGETATION. 

fests  himself  in  the  creation  of  animals,  is  equally  apparent  in 
the  vegetable  kingdom. 

Every  vegetable  is  capable  of  bearing  seed ;  and  seed,  when 
properly  deposited,  becomes  the  germ  of  future  plants.  In 
many  instances,  plants  may  be  multiplied  in  different  ways; 
but  we  must  look  to  seeds  as  the  great  means  by  which  vege- 
tables are  propagated.  And  what  a  wonderful  thing  is  a 
seed !  *  Why  does  it  germinate  more  than  a  grain  of  sand 
on  the  shore,  or  a  pebble  in  the  channel  of  the  brook  1  Must 
we  not  account  for  its  configuration  and  vegetable  power  by 
resorting  to  a  wise  and  good  JF'i?'st  Cause  ?  Without  the  ad- 
mission of  such  a  cause,  vegetable  as  well  as  animal  life  sets 
us  completely  at  defiance.  For  the  first  seeds,  then,  we  must 
have  recourse  to  the  great  Intelligence  who  stands  at  the 
head  of  the  universe ;  and  in  his  power,  wisdom,  and  good- 
ness only,  can  we  discover  an  adequate  cause  for  that  con- 
stitution of  things  by  which  seeds  vegetate  and  continue 
their  kinds. 

In  order  to  vegetation,  many  independent  conditions  must 
meet  together.  We  must  have  seed,  and,  generally  speak- 
ing, a  vegetable  mould.  If  the  surface  of  the  dry  land  had 
been  one  continuous  plate  of  granite,  it  could  not  have  af- 
forded nourishment  to  seed ;  it  could  not  have  imbibed  mois- 
ture ;  no  verdure  could  have   adorned  the  hill,  and  no  crop 

*  "  The  seed,  the  last  production  of  vigorous  vegetation,  is  wonderfully  di- 
versified in  form.  Being-  of  the  highest  importance  to  the  resources  of  nature,  it 
is  defended,  above  all  other  parts  of  the  plant,  by  soft,  pulpj'  substances,,  as  m 
the  esculent  fruits;  by  thick  membranes,  as  in  the  leguminous  vegetables,  and 
by  hard  shells,  or  a  thick  epidermis,  as  in  the  palms  and  grasses. 

"  In  every  seed  there  is  to  be  distinguished,  first,  the  organ  of  nourishment ; 
secondly,  the  nascent  plant,  or  the  plume  ;  thirdly,  the  nascent  root,  or  the  radicle. 

"  In  the  common  garden  bean,  the  organ  of  nourishment  is  divided  into  two 
lobes  called  cotyledons :  the  plume  is  the  small  white  point  between  the  upper 
part  of  the  lobes;  and  the  radicle  is  the  small  curved  cone  at  their  base. 

"  In  wheat,  and  in  many  of  the  grasses,  the  organ  of  nourishment  is  a  single 
part,  and  these  plants  are  called  monocolijledoiions.  In  other  cases,  it  consists 
of  more  than  two  parts,  when  the  plants  are  called  j)olycotyledonous.  In  the 
greater  number  of  instances,  it  is,  however,  simply  divided  into  two,  and  is  dico- 
tyledonous. 

"  The  matter  of  the  seed,  when  examined  in  its  common  stale,  appears  dead 
and  inert ;  it  exhibits  neither  the  forms  nor  the  functions  of  life.  But  let  it  be 
acted  upon  by  moisture,  heat,  and  air,  and  its  organized  powers  are  soon  dis- 
tinctly developed.  The  cotjdedons  expand,  the  membranes  burst,  the  radicle 
acquires  new  matter,  descends  into  the  soil,  and  the  plume  rises  towards  the 
free  air.  Bv  degrees,  the  organs  of  nourishment  of  dicotyledonous  plants  be- 
come vascular,  and  are  converted  into  seed-leaves,  and  the  perfect  plant  ap- 
pears above  the  soil.  Nature  has  provided  the  elements  of  germination  on  ev- 
ery part  of  the  surface;  water,  and  pure  air,  and  heat,  are  universally  active, 
and  the  means  for  the  preservation  and  multiplication  of  life  are  at  once  simple 
and  grand." — Sir  H.  Davi/s  Elements  of  Agricultural  Chemistry,  2d  ed.  p. 
lO.-^Paxton. 


VEGETATION.  117 

could  have  gladdened  the  plain ;  but  a  vegetable  soil  is  pro- 
vided. Water  also  must  be  present ;  for  if  seeds  be  dried, 
and  moisture  completely  excluded,  they  will  not  germinate. 
As  moisture,  then,  is  requisite,  this  connects  every  seed  with 
the  ocean,  the  great  fountain  of  waters.  But  seed,  soil,  and 
moisture,  will  not  of  themselves  produce  a  single  plant. 
There  must  be  a  certain  degree  of  heat  also ;  for  no  seed 
will  germinate  and  grow  below  the  freezing  point.  This  con- 
nects every  seed  with  the  sun,  the  source  of  heat  in  our  sys- 
tem. Yet,  after  we  have  found  seed,  soil,  moisture,  and  heat, 
something  further  is  still  requisite  in  order  to  vegetation. 
We  must  have  air,  atmospheric  air,  or  something  nearly  re- 
sembling it ;  for  seeds  will  not  germinate,  and  plants  will 
not  grow,  under  the  exhausted  receiver  of  an  air-pump,  nor 
without  the  presence  of  oxygen  gas :  the  proportion  of  oxy- 
gen gas  in  atmospheric  air  is  more  favorable  to  germination 
than  any  other.  Besides,  the  presence  of  light  is  requisite  to 
give  plants  their  peculiar  color  and  flavor.*  Thus  to  light, 
and  to  the  atmosphere  which  surrounds  the  earth,  are  we  in- 
debted for  the  beauty  that  adorns  it. 

It  is  evident,  then,  that,  before  we  can  procure  a  single  stalk 
of  grass,  many  conditions  are  requisite,  and  the  existence  of 
any  one  of  those  conditions  does  not  necessarily  involve  the 
existence  of  any  other.  They  are  independent  upon  each 
other.  We  can  conceive  a  globe  to  have  existed  without 
a  vegetable  soil;  a  vegetable  soil,  without  a  seed;  seed, 
without  the  sun;  the  sun,  without  the  ocean;  the  ocean, 
without  the  atmosphere.  But  all  these  are  requisite  in  order 
to  germination  and  vegetation.  What  but  a  designing  cause 
could  assemble  and  combine  all  these  independent  condi- 
tions, so  as  to  exert  a  harmonious  action  in  the  accomplish- 
ment of  an  important  end  ?  If  the  means  be  adequate  to 
the  end,  the  designing  cause  must  be  wise ;  for  in  what  does 

*  The  late  Professor  Robison  of  Edinburg-li  brought  up  from  a  coal-pit  some 
whitish-looking-  plants  ;  but  nobody  knew  what  they  were.  On  being  allowed 
to  grow  in  the  light,  the  white  leaves  dropped  off,  and  were  succeeded  by  green 
buds.  It  then  appeared  that  the  plants  were  tansij.  On  further  inquiry,  he 
learned  that  the  sods  on  which  the  plants  grew  had  been  taken  down  into  the 
pit  from  a  garden  in  the  neighborhood.  Although  the  plant  continued  to  grow 
m  its  new  situation,  3'et  neither  in  color,  odor,  nor  combustibility,  did  ii  at  all 
resemble  plants  of  the  same  species  which  had  v^egetated  under  exposure  to 
light.  He  made  the  experiment  with  great  care,  on  lovage,  mint,  and  other 
plants.  They  all  throve  in  darkness,  but  with  a  blanched  foliage,  no  way  re- 
sembling the  ordinary  foliage  of  the  respective  plants.  Even  after  the  green 
color  in  plants  is  formed,  it  disappears  on  the  exclusion  of  light. 

Captain  Parry,  in  his  First  Voyage,  tells  us,  that,  at  Melville  Island,  he  raised 
mustard  and  cress  in  his  cabin  by  the  heat  of  the  stove  :  they  were  colorless 
from  want  of  light,  but  had  much  of  the  same  pungent,  aromatic  taste  as  if 
they  had  grown  in  ordinary  circumstances. 


118 


VEGETATION. 


wisdom  consist  but  in  choosing  right  ends,  and  in  employing 
proper  means  for  the  accomplishment  of  those  ends?  And 
if  the  end  promote  the  comfort  and  happiness  of  sentient  be- 
ings, then  the  designing  cause  must  be  good ;  for  the  diffu- 
sion of  happiness  is  the  characteristic  feature  in  the  attribute 
of  goodness. 

Seeds  consist  essentially  of  three  parts ;  a  cotijleclon  or 
cotyledons,  a  radicle,  and  3.  plumula.  [PI.  XXIII.  fig.  5.]* 
The  cotyledons  constitute  the  most  bulky  part  of  the  seed  ; 
and  as  the  yolk  of  the  egg  nourishes  the  embryo  chick,  so 
they  contain  a  quantity  of  food  for  nourishing  the  embryo 
plant,  till  by  means  of  its  radicle  and  plumula,  which  become 
the  root  and  the  stem,  it  is  able  to  absorb  nourishment  from 
the  earth  and  the  air. 

The  food  laid  up  in  the  cotyledons  nourishes  the  radicle, 
which  increases  in  size,  and  is  converted  into  a  root.  The 
cotyledons  now  assume  the  appearance  of  leaves,  and  show 
themselves  above  the  ground,  forming  what  are  called  the 
seminal  leaves  of  the  plant.  The  roots  absorb  food  from  the 
earth  ;  but  this  food,  before  it  can  be  applied  to  the  purposes 
of  vegetation,  requires  to  be  digested.  This  process  it  un- 
dergoes, at  first,  in  the  seminal  leaves.  It  is  then  carried  to 
the  plumula,  which  increases  in  size,  rises  out  of  the  earth, 
becomes  the  stem  of  the  plant,  and  puts  forth  branches  and 
leaves.  The  seminal  leaves  now  become  useless,  and  decay 
and  drop  off;  but  the  plant  cannot  be  deprived  of  them  sooner 
without  destruction. 

When  thus  perfect  in  all  its  parts,  the  young  plant  con- 
tinues to  absorb  food  from  the  earth.  This  food,  under  the 
name  of  sap,  is  conveyed  in  appropriate  vessels  to  the  leaves, 
where  it  is  digested,  and  converted  into  the  peculiar  juice  of 
the  plant.  The  sap,  after  undergoing  digestion  in  the  leaves, 
is  returned  to  nourish  and  increase  the  plant,  which  it  does 
by  depositing  a  layer  of  new  matter  round  the  old  wood. 

*  The  seeds  of  plants  are  enclosed  in  a  capsule  [PI.  XXIII.  fig-.  1.],  which 
is  comparatively  strong-.  From  the  capsule  projects  a  tube  for  the  purpose  of 
conveying  the  farina  of  flowers  to  the  seeds,  and  witiiout  which  they  could  not 
be  productive.  If  the  pistils  are  shorter  tnan  the  stamens,  the  flower  is  erect, 
and  the  pollen,  as  it  falls,  is  caught  on  the  stig-mas,  and  thus  passes  tiiroug-h  the 
tube  or  filament  into  the  capsule.  [PI.  XXllI.  fig.  2.]  Where  the  stamens  are 
shorter  than   the  pistils,  the  flower  is  inverted,  that  the  pollen  may  fall   on  the 

Erotruded  part  of  the  pistils  as  it  drops  to  ihe  ground.  [PI.  XXIII.  fig.  3.] 
1  some  cases,  as  in  the  nigella  [PI.  XXIII.  fig.  4.],  when  the  styles  are  dis- 
proportionabl}'  long,  they  bend  down  their  extremities  upon  the  anthers,  to  re- 
ceive the  principle  of  fructification. 

In  plants  of  the  class  dicecia,  the  pollen  is  wafted  by  winds,  or  carried  by  the 
insects  who  are  in  search  of  food,  from  the  nectaries  of  flowers.  This  is  a  re- 
markable provision,  without  which  many  plants  would  become  extinct. 


VEGETATION.  11& 

The  new  layer,  or  unhardened  wood  of  the  present  year,  is 
named  alburnum.  It  is  probable  that  the  food,  extracted 
from  the  earth,  is  imbibed  by  the  extremities  of  the  roots 
only.  How  this  food  is  made  to  enter  into  the  roots  and  as- 
cend through  the  sap-vessels,  I  do  not  pretend  to  explain. 
The  fact  is  certain ;  and  whether  we  attempt  to  account  for 
it  by  capillary  attraction,  or  any  other  way,  we  see  adequate 
means  employed  for  the  accomplishment  of  an  important  end. 

The  sap  of  most  plants,  when  collected  in  the  spring,  ap- 
pears to  the  sight  and  taste  little  else  than  water ;  but  it  soon 
undergoes  fermentation  and  putrefaction.  The  perspiration 
from  the  leaves  is,  for  the  most  part,  a  clear,  watery  liquor, 
like  the  sap,  and  subject  to  similar  chemical  changes.  The 
sap  increases  in  density  in  ascending  the  tree  towards  the 
leaves.  Mr.  Knight  thinks  this  is  owing  to  its  being  mixed 
with  a  quantity  of  matter  previously  deposited  in  the  albur- 
num for  that  purpose,  and  ready  to  be  assimilated  to  the  dif- 
ferent vegetable  organs.  According  to  him,  plants  are  em- 
ployed in  the  latter  part  of  the  summer  in  preparing  food  for 
the  expanding  of  the  buds  and  blossoms  in  the  succeeding 
spring.  This  food,  when  prepared,  is  deposited  in  the  albur- 
num. There  it  is  lodged  during  the  winter,  and  next  spring, 
mixing  with  the  ascending  sap,  it  affords  nourishment  to  the 
buds  and  leaves. 

In  plants,  the  leaves  perform  the  office  both  of  the  stomach 
and  lungs  in  animals.  While  they  receive  the  sap  from  the 
roots  and  sap-vessels,  they  imbibe  nourishment  from  the  cir- 
cumambient air.  While  absorption  is  carried  on  by  the  ex- 
tremities of  the  roots,  the  leaves  seem  to  concur  in  the  same 
process,  chiefly  by  their  under  surfaces;  and  they  transpire 
by  their  upper  surfaces.  Some  plants  imbibe  moisture  with 
the  greatest  facility,  and  transpire  very  sparingly  :  thus  they 
are  fitted  for  inhabiting  sunny  rocks  and  sandy  deserts.  The 
sap,  in  its  passage  through  the  leaves  and  bark,  becomes  quite 
a  new  fluid,  possessing  the  peculiar  flavor  and  qualities  of  the 
plant ;  and  not  only  yielding  woody  matter  for  the  increase  of 
the  vegetable  body,  but  furnishing  various  secreted  substances, 
more  or  less  numerous,  and  different  among  themselves. 

We  have  already  observed  the  great  principle  of  assimila- 
tion in  the  human  body ;  that  mysterious  process  by  which 
the  aliment  is  converted  into  blood,  and  flesh,  and  cartilage, 
and  bones.  We  meet  with  the  same  mystery  in  the  vegeta- 
ble kingdom.  Plants  secrete  sugar,  gums,  and  various  resi- 
nous substances,  from  the  uniform  juices  of  the  earth,  or  per- 
haps from  mere  water  and  air.     We  observe,  however,  this 


120  VEGETATION. 

difference  in  these  two  great  departments  of  organized  na- 
ture ;  sentient  beings  feed  only,  or  chiefly,  on  what  is,  or  has 
been,  organized  matter,  either  of  a  vegetable  or  animal  kind  ; 
but  plants  have  a  power  of  drawing  nourishment  from  inor- 
ganic matter,  mere  earths,  salts,  or  airs  (substances  incapa- 
ble of  serving  as  food  for  animals),  though  not  from  these 
exclusively.  Thus  vegetables  are  the  great  link  between 
inorganic  matter  and  animal  bodies,  preparing  the  former  for 
becoming  a  constituent  part  of  the  latter ;  and,  as  vegetables 
take  in  their  food  in  the  shape  of  sap,  it  appears  that  the 
transition  from  inorganic  to  organized  matter  is  through  the 
medium  of  fluidity. 

From  the  same  soil  different  plants  secrete  each  their  pe- 
culiar fluids ;  but  how  sweet  and  nutritious  herbage  should 
grow  among  the  acrid  crowfoot  and  aconite  ;  how  the  leaf  of 
the  vine  and  sorrel  should  digest  a  wholesome  acid,  and  that 
of  spurge  or  manchineel  a  most  virulent  poison,  is  some- 
thing which  we  can  neither  understand  nor  explain.  For  this, 
chemical  principles  will  not  account.  In  the  living  labora- 
tories of  nature,  wonders  are  performed,  immeasurably  sur- 
passing all  the  processes  of  art,  and  plainly  indicating  the 
existence  and  operation  of  an  Intelligent  Cause,  powerful, 
wise,  and  good. 

Of  the  peculiar  secretions  of  plants  we  can  form  no  cer- 
tain opinion  from  the  mere  configuration  of  their  parts.  If 
these  secretions  depend  on  internal  organization,  the  secrets 
of  that  organization  have  hitherto  eluded  investigation.  At 
times,  under  the  same  external  appearance,  or  at  least  such 
as  even  men  of  science  cannot  easily  distinguish,  they  con- 
ceal very  different  qualities.  The  sweet  and  bitter  orange- 
trees  have  the  same  appearance.  Between  the  sweet  and  bit- 
ter jatropha  there  is  a  great  resemblance ;  although  the  root 
of  the  one  may  be  eaten  with  safety,  while  that  of  the  other 
is  an  active  poison.  Here,  as  in  every  other  department  of 
nature,  we  meet  with  an  order  of  things  calculated  to  awaken 
the  attention,  exercise  the  vigilance,  and  solicit  the  intellect- 
ual energies  of  man.  The  brutes  judge  by  their  senses,  and 
their  senses  do  not  deceive  them.  Man  is  endued  with  higher 
powers,  and  these  must  be  brought  into  action ;  although  his 
senses,  if  unperverted,  will  not  mislead  him. 

As  every  vegetable  is  capable  of  bearing  seed,  so  for  the 
dispersion  of  seeds  there  is  a  wonderful  provision.  Some 
are  widely  sown  by  birds  and  other  animals  :  others,  as  those 
of  the  thistle,  are  fitted  with  a  wing  or  a  sail,  and  wafted 
on  the  wind  ;  and  some  are   shot  from  their  places  by  the 


VEGETATION.  121 

elastic  spring  of  a  pod,  in  which  they  have  been  ripened. 
Many  seeds,  when  kept  dry  or  deeply  buried  in  the  earth,  re- 
tain the  power  of  germination  for  an  unlimited  period.  If 
the  ground  in  old  botanic  gardens  be  digged  deeper  than  or- 
dinary, it  not  unfrequently  happens  that  species  which  have 
been  long  lost  are  recovered,  by  the  seeds  which  have  been 
buried  in  the  earth  being  brought  into  a  proper  situation  for 
germination. 

Seeds  and  plants  possess  something  analogous  to  the  in- 
stincts of  animals,  for  the  preservation  of  the  individual  and 
the  continuation  of  the  kind.  In  what  position  soever  a  seed 
be  deposited  in  the  earth,  tlie  radicle  always  pushes  down- 
wards in  quest  of  nourishment,  and  to  fix  the  plant  into  the 
ground  ;  and  the  plumula,  with  unvarying  steadiness,  rises 
upwards.  We  may  attempt  to  account  for  this,  by  saying 
that  the  radicle  is  stimulated  by  moisture,  and  the  plumula  by 
air,  and  that  each  elongates  itself  where  it  is  most  excited. 
Be  this  as  it  may,  we  see  a  constitution  of  things  adequate 
to  the  accomplishment  of  important  ends.  A  constitution  of 
this  kind  is  wise,  and  must  have  proceeded  from  a  wise  au- 
thor ;  and  if  it  produce  beneficial  effects,  its  author  must  be 
good. 

The  roots  of  trees,  it  is  well  known,  alter  their  direction 
in  quest  of  nourishment ;  and  the  leaves,  which  perform  such 
an  essential  part  in  vegetation,  if  disturbed,  soon  adjust  them- 
selves, and  turn  their  upper  surfaces  to  the  light.  If  a  leaf 
be  smeared  over,  so  that  its  communication  with  the  at- 
mosphere is  cut  off,  it  dies,  like  an  animal  when  respiration 
is  stopped.  Some  animals  are  adapted  to  particular  climates 
and  circumstances.  The  same  is  the  case  with  vegetables ; 
in  some  of  which,  as  the  tillandsia,  a  very  curious  provision 
is  made  to  fit  them  to  peculiar  circumstances.*  Some  have 
tubular  leaves,  which  receive  the  rain  like  a  funnel ;  and  some 
are  so  formed  as  to  prevent  evaporation  from  their  cisterns. 

Wisdom  is  strikingly  displayed  in  the  wonderful  structure 
of  plants,  and  in  the  provision  made  for  the  preservation  of 
the  individual  and  the  continuation  of  the  kind.t  Wisdom 
and  goodness  likewise  appear  in  the  admirable  relation  be- 
tween the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms.    Vegetables  might 

*  The  tillandsia  is  a  parasitical  plant  (a  kind  of  mistletoe)  which  grows  on  the 
tops  of  trees  in  the  deserts  of  America.  It  has  its  leaves  turned  at  the  base 
into  the  shape  of  a  pitcher,  with  the  extremity  expanded :  in  these,  rain  is  col- 
lected. 

t  As  an  instance  of  wisdom  evinced  in  the  provision  made  for  the  contmua- 
tion  of  the  species  of  plants,  the  student  is  referred  to  the  vallisneria,  illustrated 
by  PI.  XXIV. 
11 


122  THE    ATMOSPHERE. 

exist  without  animals,  but  many  animals  could  not  exist 
without  vegetables ;  and  of  vegetables  there  is  a  variety  to 
suit  the  peculiar  taste  of  every  creature,  and  an  abundance 
to  supply  the  wants  of  them  all.  Those  that  are  the  most 
generally  relished,  and  consequently  the  most  useful,  are  the 
most  common  ;  and  there  is  reason  to  conclude  that  there  is 
no  vegetable  on  the  earth  but  what  contributes,  or  may  con- 
tribute, to  the  subsistence,  or  comfort,  and  accommodation  of 
man,  or  of  the  inferior  animals.  The  earth  produces  nothing 
that  is  useless.  Vegetables  that  are  unpalatable  to  one  class 
of  animals  are  grateful  to  the  taste  of  another ;  and  the  more 
that  the  leaves  of  perennial  grasses  are  eaten,  the  more  do 
they  creep  by  the  roots  and  send  forth  offsets.  Trees  furnish 
a  lodging  to  various  tribes  of  animals  ;  and,  besides  yielding 
food,  are  made  subservient  to  many  useful  purposes  by  the 
human  race. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    ATMOSPHERE. 

Having  glanced  at  this  earth  and  its  inhabitants,  let  us  now 
for  a  little  turn  our  attention  to  the  thin,  elastic,  and  transparent 
fluid  which  constitutes  the  envelope  of  our  globe. 

Had  the  earth  been  formed  by  a  casual  concurrence  of 
atoms,  or  by  any  undesigning  cause,  the  probability  is,  that  it 
would  have  remained  forever  a  naked  mass,  like  the  lonely, 
blighted  oak  on  the  barren  desert.  But  we  see  it  a  beautiful 
globe,  adorned  by  verdure,  enriched  with  plenty,  and  exhila- 
rated by  life  and  enjoyment,  and  all  these  depending  on  the 
atmosphere  with  which  it  is  surrounded,  as  an  essential  con- 
dition. Atmospheric  air  consists  in  bulk  of  twenty-one  parts 
in  the  hundred  of  what  is  at  present  called  oiygen  gas ;  about 
seventy-nine  of  azotic  or  nitrogen  gas  ;  and  a  small,  but  some- 
what variable,  portion  of  carbonic  acid  gas.  The  two  last  of 
these,  namely,  the  azotic  and  carbonic  acid  gases,  can  sup- 
port neither  life  nor  flame.  If  an  animal  be  immersed  into 
either  of  them,  it  almost  instantly  dies.  Oxygen  gas  alone 
will  support  the  vital  functions  for  some  time ;  but  animals 
confined  in  it  expire  long  before  the  whole  of  it  is  consumed. 
The  proportions  of  these  gases  in  atmospheric  air  are  the  best 
fitted  for  supporting  both  animrJ  and  vegetable  life.  An  ex- 
cess of  any  of  them  is  injurious  or  fatal. 

But  while  the  proportions  of  the  gases  in  atmospheric  air 


THE    ATMOSPHERE  1S8 

are  best  adapted  to  the  economy  of  the  animal  system,  that 
system  is  so  constituted,  as  to  be  capable  of  bearing  consid- 
erable variations  in  the  composition  of  the  air,  without  imme- 
diate injury  to  the  powers  ojf  life.  Are  not  design  and  skilful 
contrivance  manifested  in  the  constitution  of  atmospheric  air  ? 
The  proportions  of  its  constituent  parts  are  nearly  the  same  in 
all  places  and  at  all  heights.  The  azotic  is  lighter  than  the 
oxygen  gas,  and  this  last  has  less  specific  gravity  than  carbon- 
ic acid  gas ;  yet  these  two  last  are  found  in  about  the  same 
proportions  at  the  greatest  heights  to  which  the  genius  and 
intrepidity  of  man  have  ascended,  as  at  the  level  of  the  sea. 
What  astonishing  contrivance  raises  the  oxygen  and  carbonic 
acid  gases  to  every  height  in  the  atmosphere — to  the  summit 
of  Chimborazo,  and  to  the  loftiest  region  visited  by  the  bal- 
loon ?  Is  there  no  design,  no  skilful  contrivance  in  the  won- 
derful adjustment  of  the  affinities  and  specific  gravities  of  these 
different  aeriform  fluids?  Did  Priestley,*  Scheele,t  and  La- 
voisier,1;  act  without  design,  contrivance,  and  skill,  in  the  pro- 
cesses by  which  they  decomposed  atmospheric  air,  and  dis- 
covered its  component  parts  ?  No  one  thinks  so.  And  shall 
any  person  be  so  absurd  as  to  deny  design,  wisdom,  and  good- 
ness, in  the  adjustment  of  those  proportions,  and  in  fitting 
them  for  the  benevolent  purpose  of  supporting  life  ? 

There  is  no  physical  necessity  for  the  atmosphere.  The 
earth  might  have  existed  without  any  such  invisible  robe 
flowing  around  it.  The  moon  is  not  provided  with  an  atmos- 
phere; at  least  not  with  one  so  dense  as  ours.  Might  not 
the  earth  have  been  constituted  in  the  same  manner  ?  But, 
if  it  had  been  so,  it  could  not  have  been  a  place  of  residence 
for  its  present  inhabitants.  Without  the  atmosphere  neither 
animals  nor  vegetables  could  have  existed  :  withdraw  even  its 
oxygenous  part,  constituting  only  about  a  fifth  of  the  bulk  of 
the  whole,  and  every  organized  being  dies.  If  any  person, 
then,  deny  design  and  wisdom  in  the  formation  and  constitu- 
tion of  the  atmosphere,  we  are  entitled  to  call  upon  him  to 
show  the  physical  necessity  of  an  atmosphere,  yea,  of  an  at- 
mosphere constituted  as  ours  is.     It  is  undeniably  adapted  to 

*  An  indefatigable  student  of  philosophy,  born  in  Yorkshire,  England,  and 
died  in  Northumberland,  Pennsylvania,  loO^,  set.  71.  His  writings  are  very 
numerous,  embracing  subjects  of  natural  philosophy,  chemistry,  theology,  men- 
tal philosophy,  ethics,  and  philology. 

t  An  eminent  Sw^edish  chemist,  bom  at  Stralsund,  and  died,  1786.  His  most 
valuable  treatises  are  those  on  air  and  fire, 

X  A  celebrated  chemist  of  Paris,  and  author  of  many  valuable  works  on  his 
favorite  science.  To  the  amplest  resources  of  mind  he  added  all  the  amiable 
qualities  of  the  heart.  He  was  guillotined,  1794,  to  gratify  the  malice  of  the 
minions  of  Robespierre,  set.  61 . 


124  THE    ATMOSPHERE. 

\ 

the  other  parts  of  the  system,  and  is  an  essential  part  of  one 
beautiful  whole.  What  a  mighty  difference  is  there  between 
the  earth  and  the  atmosphere  !  The  one  is  a  dense,  opaque, 
and  incompressible  body ;  the  other  a  thin,  transparent,  in- 
visible, and  highly-elastic  substance.  Yet  between  the  two 
there  is  an  obvious  relation.  Dissimilar  as  they  are  in  them- 
selves, they  harmoniously  combine  for  the  accomplishment  of 
the  most  beneficial  purposes.  Respiration,  the  propagation 
of  sounds,  the  conveyance  of  odors,  combustion,  the  support 
of  vapors,  the  refraction  and  reflection  of  the  rays  of  light,  all 
depend  on  the  atmosphere. 

The  atmosphere  cannot  form  a  single  living  creature  :  no 
being  on  earth  formed  it ;  yet  without  it  no  animal  could  ex- 
ist. Without  the  lungs  man  could  not  live ;  but  without  the 
atmosphere  the  lungs  were  a  useless  organ.  The  lungs  did 
not  apportion  the  constituent  parts  of  the  atmosphere ;  yet 
no  other  proportions  are  so  well  suited  for  supporting  animal 
life.  The  ear  did  not  form  the  atmosphere,  nor  did  the  at- 
mosphere create  the  ear  :  they  exist  independently  on  each 
other;  yet  there  is  an  admirable  relation  between  them. 
Without  the  atmosphere,  the  ear  had  been  bestowed  in  vain. 
Decisive  experiments  prove  that  air  is  the  medium  by  which 
sound  is  propagated.  To  it  we  are  indebted  for  the  pleasures 
of  speech  and  the  charms  of  music.  Without  it,  the  organs 
of  speech  and  of  hearing  would  have  been  useless  ;  but  the 
introduction  of  this  element  gives  interest  and  utility  to  the 
tongue  and  to  the  ear.* 

The  atmosphere  conveys  odors;  and,  in  this  way,  is  a 
source  of  pleasure,  and  a  monitor  against  danger.  There  is 
an  obvious  relation  between  the  atmosphere  and  the  wings  of 
birds.  He  who  formed  the  wing  of  the  eagle  evidently  fitted 
the  bird  for  rising  buoyant  on  the  air.  Without  the  air,  wings 
would  have  been  a  cumbrous  appendage  ;  but,  according  to 
the  present  constitution  of  things,  wings  are  of  great  impor- 
tance to  the  bird,  and  are  suited  to  all  its  habits.  Even  the 
ostrich,  though  it  does  not  fly,  is  impelled  in  its  rapid  career 
by  the  action  of  its  wings. 

Air  is  necessary  to  fire.  Whatever  theory  of  combustion 
we  adopt,  we  must  admit  the  atmosphere  is  requisite  to  the 
process.     The  air  supports  vapor,  which  is  exhaled  from  the 

*  The  air,  hy  the  conveyance  of  sounds,  furnishes  us  with  the  means  of  meas- 
uring distances.  In  any  terrestrial  distance,  the  passage  of  light  may  be  con- 
sidered as  instantaneous;  but  sound  travels  at  the  rate  of  about  1142  feet  in  a 
second.  Hence  we  may  measure  the  distance  of  the  cloud,  frtm  vhich  the 
lightning  and  the  peal  of  thunder  proceed. 


THE    ATMOSPHERE.  125 

earth  and  from  the  ocean  by  the  heat  of  the  sun.  Evapora- 
tion is  a  great  process  of  nature,  which  is  continually  going 
on,  and  is  essential  to  the  system.  The  quantity  of  water 
raised  into  the  air  in  this  manner,  is  much  greater  than,  at 
first  sight,  we  would  imagine.  Dr.  Watson,*  by  inverting  a 
glass  vessel  on  the  ground  in  the  time  of  a  considerable 
drought,  found  that,  even  then,  about  1600  gallons  of  water 
were  evaporated  from  an  acre  in  24  hours.  On  repeating  the 
experiment,  after  a  thunder-shower,  he  found  that  an  acre 
yielded  about  1900  gallons  in  12  hours. 

This  process  is  carried  on  not  only  from  the  ground,  but 
also  from  the  leaves  of  trees  and  plants,  as  well  as  from  the 
surface  of  rivers  and  lakes,  and  the  ocean.  A  great  part  of 
the  moisture  exhaled  during  the  day  descends  in  dew  during 
the  night,  and  is  absorbed  by  the  vegetables  which  had  before 
given  it  out.  In  this  way  the  earth  is  not  so  soon  desiccated, 
even  for  a  little  way  below  the  surface,  as  we  might  be  apt  to 
imagine  from  the  quantity  of  water  raised  by  evaporation.  If 
all  the  moisture,  exhaled  during  the  time  of  a  long  drought, 
left  the  earth,  not  to  return  to  it  for  the  space  of  several  weeks 
or  months,  all  plants  which  do  not  strike  their  roots  very 
deeply  into  the  ground  must  of  necessity  be  destroyed.  But 
nothing  of  this  kind  takes  place,  excepting  with  the  most  ten- 
der grass,  when  on  elevated  situations,  and  much  exposed  to 
the  rays  of  the  sun. 

The  water  that  is  carried  into  the  air  by  evaporation,  re- 
turns again  to  the  earth  in  dew  and  fogs,  rain,  hail,  or  snow, 
according  to  the  climate  and  the  season  of  the  year.  It  does 
not  descend  in  impetuous  spouts,  nor  yet  in  large  sheets. 
Had  it  done  so,  instead  of  being  the  messenger  of  plenty  and 
of  joy,  it  would  have  been  the  author  of  desolation  and  mourn- 
ing, mangling  the  vegetable  kingdom,  overthrowing  the  hab- 
itations of  man,  and  destroying  himself  Can  we  contemplate 
the  invisible  drops  of  dew,  the  drizzling  shower,  reviving  and 
refreshing  the  thirsty  plants,  and  the  copious  rain  moistening 
the  earth,  and  not  be  filled  with  grateful  admiration  of  the 
wisdom  and  goodness  manifested  in  that  constitution  of  things 
by  which  dews  and  rains  descend  as  from  a  colander  ?  The 
phenomena  of  rain  we  are  unable  fully  to  explain ;  but  we 
see  a  beneficial  end  accomplished ;  and  although  we  have  not 
yet  discovered  all  the  steps  of  the  process,  or  the  precise  op- 

*  The  distingnished  author  of  the  "  Apology  for  the  Bible/'  in  answer  to 
Paine's  "  Age  of  Reason."     He  was  professor  of  chemistry,  and  afterwards  of 
divinity,  in  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.     He  was  made  Bishop  of  Llandaff  in 
1782,  and  died  1816,  set.  79. 
11* 


126  THE    ATMOSPHERE. 

eration  of  the  different  agents  employed,  we  have  sufficient 
reason  to  believe  that  the  constitution  of  this  meteor  was 
framed  by  a  wise  and  beneficent  First  Cause. 

The  atmosphere  also  serves  to  refract  the  light  of  the  sun, 
and  to  reflect  it  in  all  directions.  To  the  refraction  of  the 
rays  of  light  by  the  atmosphere,  we  are  indebted  for  the 
morning  and  evening  twilight.  Without  this  refraction, 
thick  darkness  would  prevail  in  the  morning  till  the  sun  were 
above  the  horizon;  and,  in  the  evening,  would  immediately 
follow  the  disappearance  of  this  orb.  At  the  equator  the 
twilight  is  short,  because  there  the  earth  moves  with  great 
rapidity  in  its  diurnal  rotation,  and,  consequently,  its  rotundi- 
ty soon  intervenes.  The  refraction  of  light  is  very  servicea- 
ble to  those  who  live  in  polar  regions.  By  means  of  it  their 
long  night  is  abridged,  and  they  see  the  returning  light  sooner 
than  otherwise  they  could  have  done.  The  sun  was  visible 
to  some  Dutch  navigators,  who  wintered  in  Nova  Zembla  in 
16S2,  sixteen  days  sooner  than  he  could  have  been  seen  if 
there  had  been  no  atmosphere  to  refract  the  rays  of  light. 

If  the  refractive  power  of  the  atmosphere  be  beneficial  to 
the  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  its  reflection  of  light  is  much 
more  so.  Without  atmospheric  reflection  we  could  see  no 
light  but  when  our  eye  was  turned  to  the  sun.  Solid  bodies, 
indeed,  that  reflected  the  rays,  would  glitter  :  they  would  glit- 
ter, however,  in  the  midst  of  darkness.  But  from  the  reflec- 
tion of  the  solar  rays,  in  all  directions,  by  means  of  the  air, 
the  hemisphere  is  as  completely  illuminated  as  if  the  sun 
were  commensurate  with  it,  and  were  fitted  up  over  our  globe 
like  a  semispherical  cap.  Here,  in  the  simplicity  of  the 
means,  we  may  recognize  the  wisdom  of  the  Agent.  Every 
aeriform  fluid  would  not  answer  all  the  purposes  of  the  at- 
mosphere. Some  of  them  are  too  rare  for  supporting  vapor ; 
most  of  them  are  unfit  for  the  purposes  of  respiration.  But 
the  atmosphere  is  admirably  adapted  to  the  globe  which  it 
surrounds :  it  serves  many  different  purposes,  and  is  essential 
to  a  vast  system  of  life  and  enjoyment. 

It  is  a  well-known  fact,  that  atmospheric  air  is  deteriora- 
ted, and  rendered  unfit  for  the  support  of  life,  by  combustion, 
the  germination  of  seeds,  the  vegetation  of  plants,  and  the 
respiration  of  animals.  Were  this  deterioration  to  go  on 
continually  increasing,  without  counteraction  or  compensa- 
tion, the  atmosphere  would  daily  become  more  unfit  for  the 
purposes  of  respiration,  till,  at  length,  the  whole  mass  of  air 
would  become  contaminated,  and  life  be  extinguished.  But 
it  exists  at  this  moment  in  as  pure  a  state  as  it  ever  did.     It 


THE    ATMOSPHERE.  127 

is  as  fit  as  ever  for  supporting  both  animal  and  vegetable  life. 
Hence  it  is  evident  that  a  great  restorative  process  is  con- 
tinually going  on,  by  means  of  which  the  purity  of  the  general 
body  of  the  atmosphere  is  preserved.  This  process,  which 
is  an  exact  counterpoise  to  the  causes  of  contamination,  the 
present  state  of  our  knowledge  does  not  enable  us  fully  to 
explain. 

Dr.  Priestley  observed  that,  in  vegetation,  leaves  have  the 
property  of  absorbing  carbonic  acid  gas  from  the  atmosphere  ; 
and  hence  he  concluded  that  veoretation  was  a  areat  restorer 
of  the  purity  of  the  air  contaminated  by  respiration.  This 
doctrine  has  been  controverted ;  but,  after  much  investigation, 
it  appears,  to  a  certain  extent  at  least,  to  be  true.  In  germi- 
nation, indeed,  seeds  absorb  oxygen,  and  give  out  carbonic 
acid.  A  similar  process  goes  on  in  vegetation  when  plants 
are  in  the  shade,  or  in  the  dark ;  but  when  they  are  exposed 
to  the  action  of  the  solar  beam,  the  process  is  different.  Then, 
by  the  joint  agency  of  the  plant  and  of  light,  the  carbonic 
acid  is  decomposed  and  oxygen  gas  developed.  In  the  shade, 
or  in  the  dark,  plants  convert  oxygen  into  carbonic  acid  ;  and, 
when  confined  in  a  given  quantity  of  air,  this  conversion  goes 
on  till  all  the  oxygen  disappears.  But  under  the  action  of 
the  solar  rays,  in  conjunction  with  the  leaves  of  the  plant, 
carbonic  acid  is  decomposed,  and  oxygen  gas  is  formed. 
This  conversion  and  re-conversion  of  gases  go  on  simultane- 
ously ;   in  what  proportion  has  not  yet  been  determined. 

Thus,  if  plants  deteriorate  atmospheric  air,  they  likewise 
contribute  to  its  restoration  to  purity  ;  but  how  far  this  con- 
tribution extends,  on  the  great  scale  of  nature,  cannot  be 
easily  ascertained.  By  experiment  and  careful  observation, 
we  may  discover  the  processes  of  nature  ;  but  from  the  minute 
scale  on  which  our  experiments  are  performed,  in  many  cases, 
it  is  not  easy,  from  their  results,  to  make  any  exact  calcula- 
tions respecting  the  processes  in  the  vast  system  of  the  world. 
In  the  case  under  consideration,  I  know  of  no  experiments 
which  will  enable  us  to  make  even  an  approximation  to  the 
degree  in  which  vegetation  purifies  the  atmosphere.  In  all 
probability,  its  influence  in  restoring  is  at  least  as  great  as  in 
contaminating  the  air ;  perhaps  much  greater.  We  may  still 
say  that,  in  this  respect,  there  is  a  continual  circulation  of 
benefit  between  the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms.* 

*  It  has  been  said,  that  the  oxygen  produced  by  plants  arises  solely  from  the 
decomposition  of  the  carbonic  acid,  and  that  this  production  of  oxyg^en  depends 
altogether  on  the  chemical  effect  of  light  on  the  leaf,  and  is  unconnected  with 
the  functions  of  vegetation.  Be  this  as  it  may,  it  is  certain  that  the  conversion 
of  gases  accompanies  the  process  of  vegetation. 


128  THE    ATMOSPHERE. 

Water  lends  its  aid  in  purifying  contaminated  air.  It  ab- 
sorbs carbonic  acid  when  brought  into  contact  with  it ;  and 
the  rapidity  of  the  absorption  is  much  increased  by  agitation. 
Now,  water  and  air  are  brought  into  a  state  of  contact  by 
the  exhalation  of  vapor,  the  descent  of  dew  and  rain,  and  the 
action  of  winds.  The  very  processes  which  are  necessary 
in  order  to  vegetation  and  life,  contain  in  them  the  principles 
by  which  the  purity  of  the  atmosphere  is  preserved.  Although 
we  were  wholly  unable  to  discover  any  part  of  the  process  by 
which  contaminated  air  is  restored  to  purity,  still  the  argu- 
ment from  the  fact  would  remain  unanswerable.  That  a 
great  process  of  restoration  is  continually  going  on,  and  that 
the  air  is  preserved  in  a  state  of  purity,  cannot  be  denied. 
Our  ignorance  of  the  means  merely  proves  the  narrowness  of 
our  capacity,  or  the  imperfection  of  our  science. 

Wind  is  air  in  motion,  or  a  current  of  air,  and  is  occasion- 
ed chiefly  by  the  disturbance  of  the  equilibrium  of  the  atmos- 
phere, by  the  unequal  distribution  of  heat.  The  winds  serve 
some  important  purposes  in  nature,  and  are  great  agents  in 
carrying  on  the  economy  of  that  system  of  which  they  form 
a  part.  Confined  and  motionless  air  soon  becomes  unfavor- 
able to  respiration  ;  but  the  winds  agitate  the  atmosphere,  and 
maintain  its  salubrity,  purifying  what  has  been  contaminated, 
and  removing  noxious  emanations.  They  transfer  from  place 
to  place  the  clouds  destined  to  scatter  over  the  face  of  the 
earth  those  rains  which  moisten  and  fertilize  it.  They  are 
the  vehicles  of  many  seeds,  which,  being  provided  with  wings 
or  down,  are  wafted  to  all  parts  in  autumn,  and  keep  up  a 
constant  circulation  of  vegetable  riches  between  diiferent 
soils.  They  modify  the  temperature  of  the  air,  bringing  the 
heat  of  the  equator  towards  the  poles,  and  carrying  the  polar 
cold  towards  the  torrid  zone.  They  also  maintain  an  inter- 
community of  temperature  between  the  sea  and  land.  In 
tropical  climates,  the  sea-breeze  bears  in  its  bosom  a  refresh- 
ing coolness,  and  fans  the  traveller  panting  under  a  vertical 
sun  :  the  wind  blowing  over  the  ocean  serves  to  mitigate  the 
cold  of  high  latitudes.  Like  many  other  parts  of  nature,  the 
winds  solicit  the  ingenuity,  and  aid  the  industry  of  man. 
Without  them  navigation  must  have  been  almost  unknown, 
and  the  commerce  of  distant  nations  altogether  impracti- 
cable. 


129 


CHAPTER  X. 


Light  is  a  most  astonishing  substance ;  and  between  it 
and  the  eye  there  is  an  obvious  relation.  Without  light  the 
eye  had  been  a  useless  organ ;  and  without  the  eye  light 
had  been  to  sentient  beings,  in  some  respects,  an  unprofitable 
emanation.  But,  by  the  genial  operation  of  light,  the  eye 
beholds  creation  in  all  its  magnificence,  beauty,  and  variety. 
Light  did  not  create  the  eye,  for  it  was  formed  in  darkness ; 
nor  did  the  eye  give  existence  to  light ;  yet  there  is  such  an 
adaptation  of  the  one  to  the  other,  as  compels  us,  by  the  very 
constitution  of  our  nature,  to  believe  that  it  is  the  result  of 
design.  And  the  designing  cause  must  be  wise  and  good  ; 
for  the  means  are  happily  fitted  to  the  end,  and  the  end  is 
beneficial.  The  air  is  the  vehicle  of  speech,  and  by  means 
of  the  ear  enables  us  to  carry  on  an  intercourse  of  thought 
with  our  fellow-men ;  but  how  greatly  is  this  intercourse  ex- 
tended, diversified  and  improved  by  light  and  the  eye  ! 

It  may  here  be  assumed  as  a  fact,  that  light  is  emitted 
from  the  luminous  body,  and  moves  in  straight  lines.  Its 
prodigious  velocity  cannot  fail  to  engage  our  attention.  It 
travels  about  twelve  millions  of  miles  in  a  minute.  The  dis- 
covery of  this  fact  is  a  noble  proof  of  the  exalted  powers  of 
the  human  mind  ;  and  yet  it  dej>ends  on  circumstances  so 
intelligible  that  every  person  may  understand  the  matter. 
The  eclipses  of  Jupiter's  moons  can  be  exactly  calculated ; 
and  Roemer,*  a  Danish  astronomer,  observed  that  these 
eclipses  are  seen  sixteen  minutes  sooner  when  the  earth  is  in 
that  part  of  its  orbit  which  is  nearest  Jupiter,  than  when  it  is 
farthest  from  him.  This  shows  that  light  takes  sixteen  min- 
utes to  travel  through  a  space  equal  to  the  diameter  of  the 
earth's  orbit,  and,  consequently,  eight  minutes  to  pass  from 
the  sun  to  the  earth — a  distance  which,  with  Dr.  Maskelyne, 
we  may  estimate  at  ninety-five  millions  of  miles.  This  won- 
derful fact  was  afterwards  confirmed  by  Bradley's  t  curious 
discovery  of  the  aberration  of  the  fixed  stars. 

Even  the  initial  velocity  of  a  cannon  ball  seldom  reaches 

*  Professor  of  astronomy  at  Copenhagen.  His  observations  on  lig^ht  were 
noticed  and  applauded  bv  Newton.  He  left  no  literary  work  behind  him.  He 
died,  1710. 

t  Professor  of  astronomy  at  Oxford,  and  afterwards  astronomer  royal  at 
Greenwich.  He  discovered  the  laws  of  the  aberrations  of  the  fixed  stars  in  con- 
sequence of  the  motion  of  lij^ht,  and  also  of  the  rotation  of  the  earth's  axis. 


130  LIGHT. 

2000  feet  in  a  second ;  but  in  the  same  time  light  moves 
about  200,000  miles;  consequently  with  upwards  of  500,000 
times  the  greatest  initial  velocity  of  a  cannon  ball.  Unless 
the  particles  of  light  were  inconceivably  minute,  they  would 
dash  in  pieces  every  thing  that  came  in  their  way.  But  such 
is  their  extreme  exility,  that,  notwithstanding  their  amazing 
velocity,  they  strike  even  the  delicate  pupil  of  the  eye  with- 
out injuring  it.  The  person  who  can  reflect  on  this  without 
a  strong  conviction  and  a  grateful  impression  of  an  Intelli- 
gent Cause,  and  without  admiration  of  the  wisdom  and  good- 
ness of  that  Cause,  must  have  a  mind  inaccessible  to  moral 
evidence,  and  destitute  of  the  noblest  feelings  of  humanity. 
The  beneficial  effects  of  light  are  too  extensive  to  be  over- 
looked, and  too  obvious  to  be  denied.  They  force  them- 
selves on  the  notice  of  the  careless,  and  command  the  assent 
of  the  skeptic. 

The  particles  of  light  seem  strongly  to  repel  each  other, 
and  are  never  found  cohering  together  so  as  to  form  masses 
of  any  sensible  magnitude.  There  are  several  differently- 
colored  rays  in  the  solar  beam,  which  can  be  separated  by 
the  prism ;  and  the  color  of  bodies  depends  on  their  affinity 
for  particular  rays,  and  their  want  of  affinity  for  others. 
Thus,  to  light  are  we  indebted,  not  only  for  seeing  nature 
around  us,  but  for  all  that  charming  variety  of  colors,  all 
those  delicate  tints  which  diversify  and  adorn  the  vegetable 
kingdom.  The  upper  surface  of  leaves  is  of  the  most  pleas- 
ing green,  and  the  exquisite  tints  of  flowers  are  inimitably 
beautiful.  The  most  skilful  painter  cannot  so  mingle  and 
temper  his  colors  as  to  rival  their  native  hues. 

Light  is  the  cause  of  that  agreeable  variety  which  we  meet 
wath  in  the  taste  and  odor  of  plants,  and  is  the  main  source 
of  their  combustibility.  It  is  not  in  the  vegetable  kingdom 
only  that  the  influence  of  light  is  felt;  it  acts  also  on  animals, 
and  considerably  affects  their  color.  The  bellies  of  fish, 
being  always  turned  from  the  light,  are  white  ;  but  those 
parts  of  their  bodies  which  are  exposed  to  it  exhibit  various 
colors.  Tropical  birds  are  more  brightly  colored  than  those 
of  higher  latitudes ;  and  the  parts  of  the  feathers  have  more 
or  less  variety  of  color,  as  they  are  more  or  less  exposed  to 
the  action  of  light.  The  upper  part  of  the  feathers  of  the 
wings  have  more  brilliancy  than  those  of  the  breast.  A  sim- 
ilar observation  applies  to  the  hairs  of  quadrupeds ;  and  light 
and  heat  seem  to  be  powerful  agents  in  producing  that  varie- 
ty of  color  which  is  observable  in  the  human  race. 

Whether  light  and  caloric,  or  the  matter  of  heat,  be  the 


ASTRONOMY.  131 

same  substance  under  different  modifications  or  combina- 
tions, I  shall  not  inquire.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  they  are 
found  together  in  the  solar  beam.  Heat  is  the  cause  of  flu- 
idity, and  is  essential  to  the  existence  of  our  earth  in  its  pres- 
ent form.  The  great  law  of  attraction  pervades  the  universe, 
so  far  as  our  observation  extends ;  and  had  it  alone  acted,  all 
must  have  been  one  solid  mass.  In  order  to  constitute  a  sys- 
tem such  as  ours,  it  was  necessary  to  introduce  a  principle  of 
repulsion,  which,  in  a  proper  degree,  should  counteract  the 
law  of  attraction.  This  principle  of  repulsion  we  find  in 
heat ;  by  the  action  of  which  solids  are  converted  into  fluids, 
and  fluids  into  vapor.  Here  we  may  remark  the  wisdom  dis- 
played in  so  nicely  balancing  the  principles  of  attraction  and 
repulsion  against  each  other.  Had  there  been  any  consider- 
able difference  in  either  of  these  from  what  now  obtains,  the 
world  would  not  have  existed  in  its  present  form,  nor  yielded 
subsistence  to  its  present  inhabitants.  Had  the  power  of  at- 
traction and  cohesion  been  much  greater,  and  the  degree  of 
heat  the  same  as  at  present,  we  should  have  been  in  want  of 
fluidity  :  had  the  quantity  of  heat  been  much  greater,  and 
attraction,  as  well  as  the  pressure  of  the  atmosphere,  the 
same  as  at  present,  all  our  fluids  would  have  been  converted 
into  vapor.  But  these  powers  are  exactly  adjusted  to  one 
another  and  to  the  rest  of  the  system. 

Heat  is  necessary  both  to  vegetable  and  animal  life ;  and 
it  appears  a  decided  evidence  of  the  wisdom  and  goodness 
of  the  Supreme  Being,  that  the  living  functions,  both  of 
plants  and  animals,  disengage  the  portion  of  heat  necessary 
for  their  well-being :  this  they  seem  to  accomplish  by  con- 
verting oxygen  into  carbonic  acid  gas,  in  which  process  a 
quantity  of  heat  is  evolved. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

ASTRONOMY. 

Having  taken  a  cursory  view  of  the  terraqueous  globe, 
with  its  productions  and  inhabitants ;  of  the  transparent  and 
elastic  fluid  with  which  it  is  invested,  and  of  light  and  heat 
which  beautify  and  enrich  it,  let  us  now,  for  a  little,  quit  the 
earth,  and  contemplate  the  splendid  orbs  that  bespangle  the 
vault  of  heaven.  At  an  early  period  the  Chaldean  shepherd, 
watching  his  flocks  under  an  unclouded  sky  on  the  exten- 


132  ASTRONOMY. 

sive  plains  washed  by  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris,  atten- 
tively observed  the  stars  in  their  silent  revolutions.  He 
marked  the  brilliancy  of  Sirius,  and  the  majesty  of  Orion. 
With  a  vigilant  eye,  he  followed  the  Twins  and  Arcturus  in 
their  course,  and  learned  the  unvarying  relative  position  of 
these  twinkling  ornaments  of  the  sky.  But  the  planetary 
motions  perplexed  him  by  their  apparent  intricacy  and  irreg- 
ularity, and  defied  his  sagacity  to  unravel  their  seeming 
confusion. 

The  Phenician  mariner  turned  his  eye  to  those  stars  which 
appear  to  describe  very  small  circles,  or  with  stately  majesty 
to  remain  motionless  in  the  firmament.  Some  of  the  stars 
of  the  Dragon,  or  of  the  Great  Bear,  it  is  likely,  were  his 
guides  in  creeping  timidly  along  the  shores  of  the  Mediterra- 
nean, or  of  the  Arabian  Gulf  The  star  Alruccabah,  in  the 
tail  of  the  Little  Bear,  which,  by  the  precession  of  the  equi- 
noxes, is  now  near  the  immovable  point  of  the  heavens,  prob- 
ably did  not  attract  much  of  his  attention.  These  Chaldean 
shepherds  and  Phenician  navigators,  although  they  could  im- 
press, in  some  measure,  the  stars  into  their  service,  had  but 
a  very  limited  and  partial  knowledge  of  astronomy.  There 
is  a  vast  distance  between  their  rude  observations  and  the 
noble  discoveries  of  Newton  and  La  Place.  For,  with  the 
exception  of  the  comets,  the  solar  system  is  now  well  under- 
stood ;  and  the  motions  of  all  the  great  bodies  connected  with 
it  are  ascertained  with  the  utmost  precision,  and  can  be  ex- 
plained by  the  laws  or  facts  of  projection  and  gravitation. 

Astronomy  bears  a  strong  testimony  to  the  existence  of 
God,  and  furnishes  clear  proofs  of  his  mighty  power,  con- 
summate wisdom,  and  great  goodness.  "  My  opinion  of  as- 
tronomy has  always  been,"  says  Dr.  Paley,  "  that  it  is  not 
the  best  medium  through  which  to  prove  the  agency  of  an 
intelligent  Creator."  The  opinion  is  not  without  some  foun- 
dation. But  I  must  acknowledge,  that  no  part  of  Dr.  Paley's 
masterly  work  on  Natural  Theology  made  a  deeper  impres- 
sion on  my  mind  than  the  chapter  on  astronomy.  We  are 
not,  indeed,  acquainted  with  the  inhabitants  of  the  planetary 
bodies,  and  consequently  cannot  trace  minute  contrivance 
and  mechanical  adaptation  in  their  organization,  or  in  the 
provision  that  is  made  for  their  subsistence,  accommodation, 
and  comfort.  We  can  reason  only  on  the  forms,  arrange- 
ments, and  motions  of  the  planets.  But  even  within  this 
range  we  meet  with  decisive  proofs  of  design,  power,  wisdom, 
and  goodness. 

I.  The  forms  of  the  lieaveniy  bodies  are  all  spheroidal, 


ASTRONOMY.  133 

whatever  be  the  diameter  of  the  sphere.  This  holds  from 
the  sun,  the  largest,  to  Pallas,  the  least,  perhaps,  of  the  bodies 
in  our  system.  The  spheroidal  figure  is  best  fitted  for  the 
motion  of  the  planets,  whether  in  their  orbits  or  on  their 
axes.  It  is  best  adapted  for  the  equal  diffusion  of  light;  and, 
judging  from  the  inhabitants  of  our  earth,  it  is  also  most  com- 
modious for  furnishing  a  residence  to  living  creatures. 

Now,  was  there  any  physical  necessity  for  the  spheroidal 
figure  1  I  may,  perhaps,  be  told  that  it  results  from  the  mo- 
tions. Passing  over,  at  present,  the  difficulty  of  accounting 
for  the  motions  without  an  Intelligent  Cause,  I  should  like  to 
know  what  is  the  evidence  that  the  planets  were  not  spheres 
at  their  first  movement,  as  well  as  at  present.  In  my  appre- 
hension, I  have  as  good  a  right  to  allege  that  the  sphericity 
was  prior  to  the  motion,  as  another  has  to  say  that  the  motion 
generated  the  sphericity.  Supposing,  however,  that  the  plan- 
ets were  not  spheres  originally,  we  may  inquire  how  they 
moved  before  they  assumed  the  spheroidal  form.  What  was 
their  original  figure  ?  Supposing  them  to  have  been  cubes, 
parallelograms,  or  very  irregular  figures,  how  did  they  revolve 
till  they  acquired  their  present  shape  ?  Must  not  the  axis  of 
rotation  have  been  perpetually  shifting?  And  would  not  this 
shifting  have  prevented  them  from  acquiring  their  present 
figure?  Besides,  if  our  earth,  for  instance,  was  as  dense  at 
first  as  it  is  now,  its  rotation  on  its  axis  would  have  had  very 
little  influence  on  its  figure.  The  solid  parts  of  the  earth  do 
not  appear  to  be  affected  by  its  rotation. 

But  we  may  be  told,  perhaps,  that  the  matter  of  the  plan- 
ets was  struck  off  from  the  body  of  the  sun  in  a  state  of  fu- 
sion, and  thus  assumed  the  globular  form  by  rotation.  This, 
however,  is  a  purely  hypothetical  assumption  countenanced 
by  no  one  known  fact  in  nature.  We  do  not  know  that  the 
sun  himself  is  an  ignited  body.  We  do  not  know  that  any 
great  masses,  in  a  state  of  ignition  and  fusion,  exist  in  the 
universe.  We  have  no  evidence  that  our  earth,  or  any  other 
planet,  is  gradually  cooling.  To  assume  principles  which  re- 
ceive no  countenance  from  the  existing  phenomena  of  nature, 
may  do  with  the  dreaming  theorist  who  surrenders  himself  to 
the  guidance  of  a  loose  imagination ;  but  such  a  practice  can 
never  be  admitted  into  the  school  of  sound  philosophy.  We 
may  add  that  it  is  unreasonable  to  expect  that  every  wild 
hypothesis  devised  by  a  fertile  fancy  should  be  seriously  re- 
futed. In  order  to  entitle  a  theory  to  attention,  it  must  be 
countenanced  by  known  facts,  Without  this,  it  is,  at  best, 
but  an  amusing  fiction. 
12 


134  ASTRONOMY. 

According  to  La  Place,*  a  body  with  the  same  time  of  ro- 
tation, may  put  on  two  very  different  forms,  which  will  pre- 
serve their  equilibrium  :  the  one  of  them  is  very  near  a 
sphere  ;  the  other,  very  far  from  it.  In  the  case  of  our  earth, 
supposing  it  to  have  been  originally  a  homogeneous  body,  the 
parts  of  which  would  all  freely  yield  to  the  centrifugal  force, 
one  of  the  forms  would  have  the  ratio  of  the  polar  to  the 
equatorial  diameter  as  229  to  230,  which  is  near  the  ratio 
that  actually  obtains ;  and  the  other  as  1  to  6S0.t  In  all  the 
planets,  we  find  that  form  which  is  nearest  to  the  sphere,  and 
which,  in  point  of  utility  and  convenience,  is  unquestionably 
the  more  advantageous  of  the  two  ;  for  the  other  form  is  nearly 
a  flat  circular  body,  having  a  convex  edge.  If  it  be  alleged 
that  the  spheroidal  form  results  from  gravitation,  we  may  ask 
such  questions  as  the  following: — Will  gravitation  account  for 
all  the  phenomena?  Is  gravitation  a  necessary  or  a  contin- 
gent fact  ?  Is  it  essential  to  matter  ?  That  it  is  essential  to 
matter  cannot  be  proved.  And  if  it  be  not  essential  to  mat- 
ter, yea,  if  the  ratio  in  which  it  is  observed  to  act  be  not  es- 
sential to  matter,  then  every  advantage  resulting  from  gravi- 
tation, and  from  the  particular  law  which  it  observes,  may  be 
reasonably  attributed  to  design. 

There  is  one  phenomenon  in  the  planetary  figures,  for  which 
neither  rotation,  nor  gravitation,  nor  both  of  them,  will  in  any 
degree  account ;  I  refer  to  the  ring  or  rings  of  Saturn.  Al- 
though rotation  and  gravitation  may  preserve  these  rings  in 
their  places,  they  will  not  account  for  their  formation.  Gali- 
leo was  the  first  who  observed  something  uncommon  in  the 
shape  of  Saturn  ;  and  the  ring  was  more  fully  discovered  by 
Huygens  about  forty  years  afterwards.  It  is  now  found  that 
this  planet  is  encompassed  with  two  thin,  flat,  concentric 
rings,  lying  edgewise  towards  the  planet,  and  at  some  dis- 
tance from  it.  The  plane  of  these  rings  passes  through  Sat- 
urn's equator.  The  rings  revolve  in  their  own  plane,  in 
about  ten  hours  and  a  half;  and,  not  being  of  a  regular  figure, 
their  centre  of  gravity  is  at  a  small  distance  from  the  centre 
of  Saturn.     The  centre  of  gravity  being  carried  about  Saturn 

*  A  disting-uished  mathematician  and  astronomer,  whose  numerous  works 
have  greatly  benefited  the  sciencf  of  astronomy,  particularly  his  "  Theory  re- 
specting the  Movements  of  the  I'lanets."  Hls  "Celestial  Mechanism"  has 
been  translated,  with  a  commentary,  by  Dr.  Bowditch  of  Boston  (1830,  4to.). 

t  See  Vince's  Confutation  of  Atheism,  p.  66.  The  figure  of  the  earth  is  not 
yet  precisely  ascertained.  It  a[>pears  certain  that  the  equatorial  diameter  some- 
what exceeds  the  polar  axis,  'i  he  difference  between  the  polar  and  equatorial 
diameters  seems  to  lie  between  300  to  301,  and  340  to  341.  The  French  astrono- 
mers have  made  it  rr^- j{Montucla,  vol.  iv.  p.  170) ;  others,  rr\-^  (Playfair) 


ASTRONOMY.  1S5 

by  the  rotation  of  the  rings,  gives  them  a  centrifugal  force, 
which  is  combined  with  their  gravitation  to  the  planet;  and 
they  are  retained  by  these  two  forces,  in  the  same  manner  as 
a  planet  is  retained  in  its  orbit. 

The  formation  of  these  rings  must  have  been  either  instan- 
taneous or  gradual.  But  how  will  gravitation,  or  even  grav- 
itation and  rotation  combined,  account  for  their  formation  in 
either  of  these  ways  1  Gravitation  could  never  have  produced 
bodies  of  such  a  figure.  It  could  not  form  them  instantane- 
ously :  there  is  no  known  property  of  gravity  capable  of  pro- 
ducing such  an  effect.  Neither  could  it  do  so  gradually  ;  for 
what  was  to  support  them,  in  an  unfinished  state,  during  a 
gradual  formation?  I  see  no  way  of  accounting  for  the 
figure  of  those  rings,  by  matter,  gravitation,  and  motion. 
And  if  their  figure  cannot  in  this  way  be  accounted  for,  the 
question  becomes  still  more  complicated  and  perplexing, 
when  we  attend  to  their  motion.  To  produce  the  rotation, 
the  force  applied  must  act  in  the  plane  of  the  rings  ;  but  a 
single  force  acting  thus  would  have  disturbed  their  position, 
and  carried  them  up  to  the  planet.  There  must  have  been 
impressed  equal  and  opposite  forces,  at  equal  distances  on 
each  side  of  the  centre,  in  order  to  give  them  rotation  without 
altering  their  position.  The  figure  of  the  rings  is  not  regular : 
La  Place  has  shown  that  if  it  had  been  regular,  the  rings 
could  not  have  preserved  their  position,  but  must  have  been 
disturbed  by  the  slightest  force,  such  as  the  attraction  of  a 
comet  or  satellite,  and  fallen  upon  the  planet ;  and  that  it  is 
owing  to  those  irregularities  that  they  are  supported  in  their 
proper  situations.  In  the  other  bodies  of  the  system,  regu- 
larity of  figure  tends  to  insure  uniformity  of  motion,  and 
there  regularity  prevails.  But  here  irregularity  is  found  to 
exist,  and  it  was  needful  in  order  to  permanency.  The  rings 
are  of  a  form  which  could  not  have  arisen  from  the  gravita- 
tion of  their  parts.  They  are  concentric,  placed  exactly  in 
the  same  plane,  and  in  the  plane  of  Saturn's  equator.  Their 
progressive  velocity  is  exactly  adjusted  to  the  velocity  of  Sat- 
urn in  his  orbit,  both  in  respect  of  quantity  and  direction ; 
and  they  have  a  certain  degree  of  inequality  in  their  figures, 
which,  with  a  corresponding  period  of  revolution  about  the 
planet,  is  the  means  of  securing  them  in  their  position. 
Here,  then,  we  see  such  a  complication  of  adjustments,  as 
must  irresistibly  impress  us  with  the  belief  of  an  Intelligent 
and  Wise  Cause, 

II.  Design  appears  in  the  arrangement  of  the  heavenly 
bodies. 


136  ASTRONOMY. 

The  sun  is  the  central  body  of  our  system.  Of  the  phys- 
ical constitution  of  that  luminary  we  cannot  speak  with  cer- 
tainty. But,  whether  we  consider  it  as  an  ignited  body,  or 
as  an  opaque  orb,  surrounded,  at  a  distance  from  its  surface, 
with  clouds  emitting  luminous  and  calorific  rays,  the  fact  is 
certain,  that  it  is  the  great  fountain  of  light  and  heat  to  the 
system.  Design,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  are  obvious  in  this 
single  fact.  Had  the  universe  been  the  result  of  any  unde- 
signing  cause,  what  probability  is  there  that  there  would 
have  been  any  luminous  body  in  the  system  ?  At  present, 
besides  comets,  we  know  of  eleven  primary  and  eighteen  sec- 
ondary planets.  These  are  all  opaque  orbs.  How,  then,  but 
by  the  admission  of  an  Intelligent  Creator,  shall  we  account 
for  one,  and  only  one,  luminous  body  in  our  group  of  worlds? 
But  supposing  one  luminous  body  to  have  somehow  appeared 
among  the  opaque  planets,  how  shall  we  account  for  its  be- 
ing a  large  body,  yea,  larger  than  any,  or  all  of  the  rest? 
What  is  there  in  light  and  caloric  to  attach  them  to  the 
largest  body  exclusively,  or  to  make  the  body  to  which  they 
are  attached  assume  a  central  position  ?  If  gravitation  be 
alleged  as  the  cause,  we  answer  that  it  will  not  account  for 
the  phenomena.  How,  on  this  supposition,  are  light  and 
heat  emitted? 

If  there  had  been  no  sun,  it  is  obvious  that  the  present  or- 
der of  things  could  not  have  existed.  Without  light  and 
heat  there  could  be  neither  vegetable  nor  animal  life.  The 
light  and  heat  of  the  sun  cannot  create  a  single  seed,  but  by 
means  of  one  previously  existing :  they  cannot  form  any  ani- 
mal without  the  intervention  of  a  seminal  principle  from  a 
parent  animal.  The  sun,  then,  has  not  created  any  thing 
here  ;  and  nothing  here  created  the  sun  :  yet  between  the  sun 
and  the  earth  there  is  an  obvious  relation.  For  if  you  re- 
move the  sun,  you  at  the  same  time  extinguish  vegetable  and 
animal  life  on  the  earth.  Have  not  wisdom  and  goodness, 
then,  provided  this  essential  condition  of  animal  and  vegeta- 
ble existence  ? 

If  the  luminous  body  had  been  small  compared  with  the 
other  orbs  in  the  system,  like  Juno  or  Pallas,  or  even  like 
our  earth  ;  if  it  had  not  been  a  central,  but  a  revolving  body 
round  the  centre,  then  light  and  heat  could  not  have  been  in 
the  same  quantity,  nor  could  they  have  been  so  equably  dis- 
tributed as  they  presently  are.  But  the  sun  is  a  vast  globe, 
and  stationary,  or  nearly  so,  in  the  centre,  diffusing  light  and 
heat,  and  life  and  joy,  over  all  his  attendant  worlds.  It  is 
needless  to  enter  into  any   calculation  of  the  probabilities, 


ASTRONOMY.  137 

that  in  a  system  of  thirty  bodies  (leaving  the  comets  out  of 
the  question)  grouped  together  by  the  law  of  gravitation,  one, 
and  one  only,  should  be  luminous,  and  that  that  one  should 
be  largest,  and  in  the  centre.  To  me  it  appears  that,  on  the 
very  face  of  the  thing,  there  is  a  plain  evidence  of  design ; 
and  not  of  design  only,  but  of  wisdom  and  goodness  also. 

The  very  large  bodies,  Jupiter,  Saturn,  and  Uranus,  are 
placed  at  a  great  distance  from  the  centre.  Had  they  been 
next  the  sun,  their  joint  attractions  would  have  greatly  dis- 
turbed the  less  and  more  distant  planets  in  their  revolutions. 
But,  travelling  in  orbits  at  such  an  immense  distance  from 
the  centre,  they  attract  the  sun  and  the  inferior  planets  almost 
equally ;  which,  in  point  of  perturbation,  is  nearly  the  same 
as  if  they  attracted  neither.  This  results  from  the  law  which 
gravitation  observes,  decreasing  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  the 
squares  of  the  distances. 

The  distances  at  which  the  planets  are  placed  from  each 
other  are  an  indication  of  wisdom.  Had  not  the  bulk  and 
distance  of  the  circumvolving  bodies  been  wisely  arranged, 
the  attraction  of  one  would  have  drawn  another  from  its  orbit. 
They  would  have  met  together  in  terrible  and  destructive  col- 
lision :  confusion  and  ruin  would  have  ensued.  But  so  wisely 
are  the  bulks,  velocities,  and  distances  of  the  planetary  orbs 
adjusted  to  the  established  law  of  gravitation,  that,  though 
they  act  on  each  other,  they  do  not  act  so  powerfully  as  to 
derange  the  system.  The  perturbations  are  partial,  limited, 
and  periodical.  A  great  compensating  principle  pervades 
the  universe,  and  keeps  the  disturbing  powers  within  harmless 
limits.  The  vast  extent  of  the  system  gives  room  for  the 
bodies  to  move,  without  endangering  its  permanency  by  their 
mutual  attractions :  it  likewise  prevents  those  great  tides 
which  would  have  happened,  if  the  large  planets  had  moved 
near  each  other. 

In  all  the  planets,  so  far  as  we  know,  the  axis  of  rotation 
forms  a  greater  or  less  angle  with  the  plane  of  the  orbit.  For 
this  there  is  no  physical  necessity.  But  in  our  earth,  where 
we  have  the  best  opportunity  of  observing  and  judging,  it  is 
productive  of  beneficial  effects.  To  it  we  owe  the  variety  of 
seasons.  Had  the  axis  of  rotation  been  parallel  to  the  plane 
of  the  orbit,  each  hemisphere,  in  its  turn,  would  have  been 
long  in  darkness.  If  the  axis  had  been  perpendicular  to  the 
plane  of  the  orbit,  light  would,  indeed,  have  been  diffused 
from  pole  to  pole ;  but  the  equatorial  regions  would  have 
been  scorched  with  perpetual  and  unvarying  heat,  whilst  in 
the  higher  latitudes  the  influence  of  the  sun  would  have  been 
12* 


138  Astronomy 

too  faintly  felt  to  bring  vegetation  to  maturity.  But,  by  the 
inclination  of  the  axis,  light  and  heat  are  more  beneficially 
diffused  over  the  globe. 

Under  the  head  of  arrangement,  we  may  take  notice  of  the 
provision  of  moons. 

Mercury  and  Venus,  moving  in  orbits  at  no  great  distance 
from  the  fountain  of  light,  are  provided  with  none  of  those 
attendants.  One  accompanies  our  earth ;  and,  as  its  orbit 
forms  but  a  small  angle  with  the  ecliptic,  it  is  very  beneficial 
to  its  primary.  The  time  of  the  moon's  revolution  round  the 
earth  is  just  equal  to  the  time  of  her  rotation  about  her  own 
axis.  The  same  holds  of  all  the  satellites  of  Jupiter  ;  and 
of  one,  at  least,  of  Saturn.  From  the  uniformity  which  pre- 
vails in  the  other  parts  of  the  system,  it  is  likely  that  the 
same  is  the  case  with  all  the  secondaries,  although  it  has  not 
yet  been  ascertained  by  observation.  In  this  way,  the  sec- 
ondary always  keeps  the  same  face  towards  the  primary. 
Now,  in  this  constitution  of  things,  we  may  perceive  plain 
indications  of  design,  wisdom,  and  goodness.  When  we  con- 
sider the  number  of  nice  adjustments  that  are  necessary  in 
order  to  make  the  secondary  always  keep  the  same  face  to- 
wards the  primary,  and  attend  to  the  number  of  bodies  in 
which  this  constitution  obtains,  it  is  impossible  to  attribute  it 
to  any  thing  but  design.  The  end  is  good ;  for  had  the  con- 
stitution of  those  bodies  been  different,  the  primary  would 
have  occasioned  injurious  or  destructive  tides  on  the  secon- 
dary ;  but  by  keeping  the  same  face  of  the  moon  always  to- 
wards the  earth,  this  evil  is  avoided.  Whatever  may  be  the 
elevation  of  the  waters  upon  the  moon,  it  always  remains  the 
same,  or  nearly  so. 

Mars  has  no  satellite.  The  four  newly-discovered  planets, 
Juno,  Vesta,  Ceres,  and  Pallas,  are  very  small  bodies,  and 
unable  to  carry  moons  along  with  them.  But  Jupiter,  a  vast 
globe,  moving  in  an  orbit  about  490  millions  of  miles  distant 
from  the  sun,  is  provided  with  four  satellites,  placed  at  differ- 
ent distances  from  his  centre,  and  performing  their  revolutions 
in  different  periods.  Saturn,  revolving  in  an  orbit  twice  as 
distant  from  the  sun  as  that  of  Jupiter,  besides  the  apparatus 
of  his  rings,  has  no  less  than  seven  moons  attending  him. 
Uranus,  about  1800  millions  of  miles  distant  from  the  sun,  is 
known  to  have  at  least  six  moons. 

Ligiit  decreases  as  the  squares  of  the  distances  increase  ; 
consequently  in  those  distant  regions  the  solar  rays  must  be 
very  sparse.  But  the  remote  planets  are  amply  provided 
with  satellites  to  reflect  the  light ;  and,  to  me,  the  provision 


ASTRONOMY.  l39 

of  moons  in  the  system  appears  to  afford  no  slight  evidence 
of  design.  The  most  distant  planets  are  capable,  by  their 
mass,  of  supporting  moons,  and  they  are  provided  with  them. 
Perhaps,  in  the  other  planets,  these  satellites  serve  other 
beneficial  purposes  besides  that  of  illumination,  as  the  moon 
does  to  our  earth.  Distant  as  they  are,  they  are  of  advantage 
even  to  us  :  the  moons  of  Jupiter  assist  us  in  determining 
the  longitude. 

III.  The  motions  of  the  planets  afford  plain  proofs  of  de- 
sign, whether  we  attend  to  their  revolutions  in  their  orbits, 
or  to  their  rotation  on  their  axes. 

The  adjustment  of  the  centripetal  and  centrifugal  forces, 
so  as  exactly  to  balance  each  other,  is  a  wonderful  fact  in 
nature.  The  planets  all  move  in  ellipses,  not  greatly  re- 
moved from  circles,  having  the  sun  in  one  of  the  foci.  The 
general  law  or  fact,  in  nature,  so  far  as  we  can  observe,  is, 
that  all  bodies  attract  each  other  in  the  direct  ratio  of  their 
masses,  and  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  the  squares  of  the  dis- 
tances. It  has,  indeed,  been  asserted  that  this  is  a  necessary 
fact.  But  we  know  too  little  of  gravitation  to  authorize  us  to 
make  any  such  assertion.  We  do  not  know  that  gravitation 
is  essential  to  matter.  We  neither  know  what  it  is,  nor  how 
it  acts  ;  and,  for  any  thing  we  know,  it  might  have  followed 
one  ratio  of  action  just  as  well  as  another.  Therefore  we 
have  at  least  as  good  a  right  to  attribute  the  established  ratio 
to  choice,  as  others  have  to  attribute  it  to  necessity. 

But,  without  dwelling  on  this  point,  how  shall  we  account 
for  the  velocity  with  which  each  planet  moves,  being  so  pro- 
portioned to  the  quantity  of  matter  in  the  planet,  and  to  its 
distance  from  the  sun,  as  to  retain  it  exactly  in  its  orbit? 
Take  any  planet,  and  make  an  alteration  in  any  of  those  con- 
ditions, and  you  derange  or  destroy  the  system.  If  you 
greatly  increase  the  matter  of  any  planet,  leaving  its  dis- 
tance and  velocity  the  same  as  at  present,  it  will  fall  into  the 
sun.  If  you  considerably  increase  the  velocity,  leaving  the 
planet  with  the  same,  or  less  quantity  of  matter,  and  at  the 
same  distance  from  the  central  body,  it  will  no  longer  move 
in  an  orbit  nearly  circular,  but  will  describe  a  very  eccentric 
ellipse,  or  fly  off  into  the  immensity  of  space.  Here,  then, 
design,  nay,  consummate  wisdom,  is  displayed,  in  so  finely 
balancing  the  centripetal  and  centrifugal  forces,  that  the  plan- 
ets should  move  in  orbits  nearly  circular.  In  order  to  the 
accomplishment  of  this,  both  the  direction  and  the  velocity 
of  the  projection  lie  within  extremely  narrow  limits.  Al- 
though the  direction  in  which  the  body  was  projected  had 


140  ASTRONOMY. 

been  right,  yet  a  small  difference  in  the  velocity  would  have 
made  a  great  change  in  the  orbit ;  and  supposing  the  velocity 
to  have  been  just  what  it  is  at  present,  if  the  projection  had 
not  been  in  one  particular  line,  the  effect  would  not  have  an- 
swered. No  direction  would  have  cured  a  wrong  velocity, 
and  no  velocity  would  have  cured  a  wrong  direction.  Both 
must  be  right,  and  the  right  point  lie  within  extremely  nar- 
row limits.  Now,  that  two  such  independent  circumstances 
should  be  found  so  exactly  united,  in  so  many  different  bodies, 
is  evidently  the  result  of  contrivance  and  wisdom. 

There  is  a  fixed  relation  between  the  periodic  times  of  the 
primary  planets,  and  their  mean  distances  from  the  centre. 
The  squares  of  the  periodic  times  are  to  each  other  as  the 
cubes  of  the  mean  distances.  That  this  should  obtain  in  all 
the  planets  cannot  be  accounted  for  but  by  resolving  it  into 
design ;  and  the  fact  is  the  more  worthy  of  attention,  when 
we  consider  that  one  of  the  conditions  requisite  to  the  stabil- 
ity of  the  system  is,  that  the  planets  should  perform  their  rev- 
olutions in  different  periods. 

The  framers  of  theories  have  amused  themselves  and  their 
readers  with  dreams  of  comets  striking  off  fragments  from  the 
sun,  and  of  these  fragments  becoming  planets.  But,  accord- 
ing to  the  great  law  of  gravitation,  a  revolving  body  returns 
into  its  own  path  ;  and  consequently,  if  the  planets  had  been 
struck  off  from  the  body  of  the  sun,  they  must  in  every  rev- 
olution have  returned  to  the  body  of  the  sun  again.  It  is  of 
no  avail  to  allege,  that  the  blow  which  struck  off  the  fraor- 
ments  from  the  sun,  removed  the  sun  himself  from  his  place ; 
for,  even  in  this  case,  as  the  supposed  stroke  acted  on  the 
fragment  as  well  as  on  the  sun,  so  the  fragment  must,  in 
every  revolution,  return  to  the  surface  of  the  body  from  which 
it  was  broken  off.  As  a  revolving  body,  according  to  the  law 
of  gravitation,  must  return  to  the  place  from  which  it  was 
projected,  it  follows  that  the  planets  must  either  have  been 
formed  in  their  orbits  or  carried  to  them,  and  received  the 
projectile  impulse  there.  They  must  all  have  begun  their 
motions  in  their  orbits. 

We  may  here  remark,  that  it  has  been  said,  that  the  four 
newly-discovered  planets  are  fragments  of  a  large  body  that 
formerly  revolved  in  an  orbit  between  those  of  Jupiter  and 
Mars,  but  which,  by  some  unknown  cause,  perhaps  by  a 
shock  of  electricity,  had  been  broken  in  pieces  ;  and  it  has 
been  supposed  that  the  meteoric  stones,  which  sometimes 
fall  on  the  earth,  are  the  splinters  of  that  large  orb  which  gave 
birth  to  the  newly-discovered  planets.     On  this  fanciful  theo- 


ASTRONOMY.  141 

ry,  I  shall  just  observe,  that  if  a  large  planet  has  been  broken, 
it  must  have  been  many  ages  ago ;  for  the  history  of  astron- 
omy does  not  inform  us  of  any  planet  that  has  disappeared. 
Meteoric  stones,  however,  have  lately  fallen  on  the  earth. 
Are  we  not,  then,  left  to  suppose  that  the  larger  fragments, 
by  some  good  fortune,  have  been  honored  with  a  place  among 
the  planets,  whilst  the  unlucky  little  splinters  have  been 
wandering  up  and  down  for  ages,  without  finding  a  resting 
place,  till  at  length  chance  conducted  them  to  this  earth  for 
repose  ? 

Suppose  a  large  planet  to  have  been  shivered,  no  matter 
how,  we  may  inquire  in  what  manner  the  large  fragments 
acquired  their  spheroidal  form.  How  did  they  find  their 
way  to  their  respective  orbits  ?  Whence  did  they  receive 
their  projectile  force,  so  exactly  in  the  direction  and  with  the 
velocity  requisite  to  ensure  their  continuance  and  steady  mo- 
tions in  their  orbits,  amidst  so  many  soliciting  and  disturbing 
powers  ?  How  came  they  to  move  so  near  each  other,  and 
yet  to  remain  so  distinct  ?  Till  these  and  similar  questions 
be  satisfactorily  ansv/ered,  it  will  be  as  philosophical  to  be- 
lieve that  the  four  newly-discovered  planets  were  formed  in 
their  orbits,  and  projected  by  a  powerful  and  wise  Intelli- 
gence, as  to  embrace  the  theory  now  mentioned  concerning 
their  origin. 

After  the  planets  are  projected  in  a  direction  and  with  a 
velocity  so  exactly  proportioned  to  the  quantity  of  matter  in 
each,  and  to  its  distance  from  the  sun,  as  that  they  shall  near- 
ly describe  circles,  still  there  is  no  physical  necessity  for 
their  revolving  on  their  own  axes.  But  that  most  of  them 
do  revolve  on  their  own  axes  we  certainly  know.  That  this 
should  happen  in  so  many  different  bodies,  must  be  the  re- 
sult of  design.  Those  persons  vvho  are  best  acquainted  with 
the  doctrine  of  probabilities,  will  not,  I  apprehend,  ascribe  it 
to  chance.  By  this  constitution  of  things  a  beneficial  pur- 
pose is  served,  in  our  world  at  least,  and  we  have  not  the 
means  of  judging  so  fully  of  any  other.  To  it  we  owe  the 
agreeable  vicissitude  of  day  and  night,  a  vicissitude  accom- 
modated to  our  nature,  as  it  gives  us  the  opportunity  of  re- 
freshing ourselves  with  sleep  by  night,  to  prepare  for  the  toils 
and  enjoyments  of  returning  day.  Here  design  is  obvious  ; 
and  benevolence  characterizes  the  designing  Mind,  for  the 
end  is  beneficial.  Wisdom,  also,  plainly  appears  in  the  con- 
trivance. 

All  the  twenty-nine  primaries  and  secondaries,  belonging 
to  our  system  (if  the  moons  of  Uranus,  the  planes  of  which 


142  ASTRONOMY. 

are  nearly  at  right  angles  to  the  orbit  of  their  primary,  be  not 
considered  an  exception),  perform  their  revolutions  in  the 
same  direction.  In  the  zodiac  they  all  proceed  from  Aries 
to  Taurus :  none  of  them  moves  in  the  opposite  direction. 
The  diurnal  rotations,  so  far  as  we  know,  all  follow  the  same 
course.  It  is  impossible  to  ascribe  this  to  chance  :  it  must 
be  the  effect  of  design  ;  for,  considered  as  casual  productions, 
the  chances  of  their  all  moving  in  a  direct,  and  none  of  them 
in  a  retrograde  course,  are  almost  incalculable.*  That  the 
planets  should  all  move  in  the  same  direction,  in  their  orbits, 
is  essential  to  the  stability  of  the  system ;  t  for,  had  it  been 
otherwise,  the  inequalities  would  not  have  had  their  regular 
periods  of  increase  and  decrease,  as  at  present,  but  would 
have  gone  on  increasing  till  they  brought  on  the  destruction 
of  the  whole  fabric. 

It  may  be  inquired,  whether  the  planetary  system  be  steady 
and  permanent.  Are  there  no  principles  of  dissolution  ope- 
rating in  the  apparently  harmonious  combination  of  globes? 
Are  there  no  soliciting  and  disturbing  causes  which  shall 
ultimately  accomplish  the  overthrow  of  the  whole  ?  To  such 
queries  we  answer,  that  in  every  system  of  bodies  gravitating 
towards  a  centre,  and  reciprocally  acting  upon  each  other, 
there  will  be  perturbations ;  and  such  perturbations  exist  in 
our  system.  The  planes  of  the  planetary  orbits  are  subject 
to  a  variation  in  their  situation  :  the  inclinations  of  the  orbits 
to  the  ecliptic  are  liable  to  a  change  :  the  figure  of  the  earth's 
orbit  is  approaching  towards  a  circle  ;  and,  owing  to  this 
cause,  the  mean  motion  of  the  moon  is  increasing  :  the  ob- 
liquity of  the  ecliptic  is  diminishing.  But  have  these  changes 
no  limits?  Will  they  go  on  increasing  till  they  terminate  in 
the  disWution  of  the  system  ?  To  these  questions  the  inves- 
tigations of  modern  science  enable  us  to  reply,  that  these 
changes  have  limits ;  and  that  the  variations,  irregularities,  or 
inequalities  of  the  solar  system  are  periodical,  and  return  into 
themselves.  The  whole  oscillates  round  a  certain  position 
from  which  it  can  never  greatly  depart.  These  variations 
travel  their  rounds  in  fixed  periods.  The  periods  of  some  of 
them  are  short,  while  those  of  others  involve  hundreds  of 
years.     But  still,  at  the  close  of  their  respective  periods,  each 

*  La  Place  has  calculated,  that  the  probability  of  the  motions  of  the  solar 
system  have  taken  place  without  the  operation  of  a  superintending  mind  is  so 
small,  that  it  may  be  considered  as  nothing.  It  is  as  2  :  2^'-^ — 1  ;  i.  e.  it  is  as 
2  is  to  4398016.511103.  These  motions  alone  furnish  an  almost  decisive  proof 
of  the  existence  of  a  designing  cause. 

t  As  the  planes  of  the  satellites  of  Uranus  are  nearly  perpendicular  to  the 
orbit  of  the  planet,  the  direction  of  their  motion,  whether  retrograde  or  other- 
wise, can  have  no  sensible  influence  upon  the  system, 


ASTRONOMY.  143 

returns  to  the  point  from  which  it  set  out,  and  is  found  in  its 
orbit  as  if  no  such  disturbance  had  happened.  After  certain 
periods,  the  planes  of  the  planetary  orbits  will  return  to  the 
positions  from  which  they  departed ;  the  inclinations  of  their 
orbits  to  the  ecliptic  will  return  into  themselves ;  the  figure 
of  the  earth's  orbit  will  come  back  to  its  original  form ;  and 
the  mean  motion  of  the  moon  will  decrease  by  the  same 
steps  by  which  it  has  increased.  The  obliquity  of  the  ecliptic 
will  never  change  above  two  degrees ;  and,  vibrating  within 
such  narrow  limits,  the  seasons  will  never  be  sensibly  affect- 
ed by  it. 

For  the  permanency  of  the  system  necessity  cannot  be 
pleaded,  as  it  depends  on  conditions  which  are  not  necessa- 
ry. These  conditions  are,  that  the  attraction  be  inversely  as 
the  squares  of  the  distances ;  that  the  orbits  be  not  far  re- 
moved from  circles ;  that  the  planets  all  move  in  the  same 
direction ;  and  that  the  planes  of  their  orbits  are  not  much 
inclined  to  one  another.*  These  conditions  are  not  essential 
to  a  system  of  bodies  mutually  gravitating  towards  each  other. 
They  do  not  necessarily  arise  from  the  action  of  any  physical 
cause  known  to  us.  Any  of  them  might  be  changed,  while 
the  others  remained  the  same.  The  appointment  of  such 
conditions,  therefore,  as  would  ensure  the  stability  and  per- 
manency of  the  system,  is  not  the  work  of  necessity;  it  can- 
not be  the  work  of  chance,  for  chance  could  never  have 
brought  together  such  an  assemblage  of  independent  condi- 
tions. It  must,  therefore,  be  the  work  of  design ;  yea,  of 
boundless  wisdom,  which,  at  one  comprehensive  glance,  saw 
the  system  in  all  its  variety,  and  perceived  the  conditions  es- 
sential to  its  permanency. 

The  comets  are  bodies  of  little  density,  and,  consequently, 
their  disturbing  power  is  little  felt  on  the  planets. t 

Having  made  these  observations  on  the  solar  system,  let 
us  now  glance  at  the  fixed  stars. 

*  This  last  condition,  it  may  perhaps  be  alleged,  does  not  hold  in  some  of  the 
new  planets  ;  but  these  planets  are  very  small  bodies,  and  their  action  on  the 
system  must  be  altog-ether  insensible. 

t  The  very  dilTerent  positions  and  inclinations  of  the  orbits  of  comets  to  the 
ecliptic  seem  not  to  be  the  effect  of  chance ;  but  g-ive  us  reason  to  acknowl- 
edge and  admire  the  wisdom  of  Deity.  If  the  planes  of  their  orbits  had  been  in 
that  of  the  ecliptic,  or  very  near  it,  then  every  time  that  a  comet  descended  to- 
wards the  sun,  or  returned  from  its  perihelion,  we  would  have  been  exposed  to 
the  danger  of  being  struck  by  it,  if,  unhappily,  the  earth  had  then  happened  to  be 
at  the  point  of  intersection  ;  or  at  least,  according  to  Whiston,  we  would  have 
run  the  risk  of  being  inundated  by  its  tail.  But  according  to  the  present  consti- 
tution of  things,  this  risk  is  avoided. 


144  ASTRONOMY; 

On  departing  from  the  orbit  of  Uranus,  the  remotest  of  the 
planets,  so  far  as  we  at  present  know,  we  must  traverse,  in 
all  probability,  between  two  and  three  hundred  thousand 
times  the  distance  of  the  earth  from  the  sun,  a  space  which 
we  may  compute  in  numbers,  but  which  imagination  can 
scarcely  conceive,  before  we  reach  the  nearest  of  the  fixed 
stars.*  From  that  point,  sound  would  take  millions  of  years 
to  travel  to  our  earth.  Notwithstanding  this  immense  dis- 
tance, some  of  the  fixed  stars,  probably  the  least  remote,  such 
as  Sirius  and  Arcturus,  shine  with  great  brilliancy.  In  a 
clear  night,  by  reason  of  their  twinkling,  they  seem  to  be  in- 
numerable. But,  in  reality,  the  number  discernible  by  the 
naked  eye  is  not  very  great,  being  only  about  three  thou- 
sand ;  and  it  is  but  seldom  that  one  third  of  that  number  can 
be  seen,  even  by  a  good  eye,  at  the  same  time.  On  using 
a  powerful  telescope,  however,  their  numbers  exceed  cal- 
culation. They  are  clustered  throughout  the  immensity  of 
space  in  such  multitudes  as  to  bewilder  the  imagination  in 
their  countless  number,  and  in  the  inconceivable  extent  of 
the  universe. t 

They  shine  by  their  own  light.  The  delicate  discovery  of 
the  aberration  of  the  fixed  stars  shows  that  the  velocity  of 
their  light  is  the  same  as  that  which  comes  from  the  sun.  It 
is  also  capable  of  the  same  modifications  as  the  solar  light, 
being  reflected  and  refracted  according  to  the  same  laws. 
Hence  it  appears  that  the  sun  and  the  fixed  stars  are  bodies 
of  the  same  nature ;  and,  according  to  the  opinion  of  the 
most  enlightened  philosophers,  these  stars  are  so  many  suns, 
each  surrounded  with  its  own  planetary  system  ;  although, 
on  account  of  their  immeasurable  distance,  these  planets  are 
altogether  invisible  to  us. 

We  speak  of  these  stars  as  fixed,  because  they  preserve 
the  same  relative  position  with  respect  to  one  another.  But 
there  is  no  clear  evidence  of  their  absolute  immobility.  Sir- 
ius, Arcturus,  and  Aldebaran,  have  been  observed  to  make 
a  small  change  in  their  places;  and,  according  to  some,  the 
solar  system  is  not  confined  to  a  certain  region  in  absolute 
space,  but  has  a  progressive  motion.     Perhaps  all  the  great 

*  The  annual  parallax  of  the  fixed  stars  lias  not  yet  been  ascertained.  But 
if  we  suppose  it  not  to  exceed  I",  the  distance  of  the  fixed  stars  cannot  be  less 
than  20G2G5  times  the  radius  of  liie  earth's  orbit.  As  light  traverses  the  latter 
in  8'  13",  it  will  require  3  years  and  79  days  to  come  from  a  fixed  star  to  the 
eartli. — Plavfair. 

t  Tiie  more  powerful  the  telescope,  the  g^reater  is  the  number  of  stars  seen, 
La  Lande  computed  that,  with  a  forty  feet  telescope,  a  hundred  millions  were 
visible. 


ASTRONOMY.  145 

bodies  of  the  universe  are  grouped  together  in  systems,  mu- 
tually supporting  each  other,  and  movmg  in  orbits  round  a 
central  point  in  the  immensity  of  space ;  or  they  may  be  sup- 
ported in  their  stations  in  a  way  of  which  we  have  no  con- 
ception. For  although  we  see  processes  of  vast  extent  going 
on,  and  principles  of  v/ide  operation  established,  yet  we  are 
not  to  couiine  the  Supreme  Architect  to  these  principles 
and  processes  only,  because  we  know  of  no  other.  We  see 
enough  to  convince  us  that  He  can  vary  his  means  as  cir- 
cumstances require,  and  that  no  end  is  beyond  his  powers  of 
execution. 

What  a  great  and  glorious  scene,  then,  do  the  heavens  ex- 
hibit to  our  view  !  Millions  and  tens  of  millions  of  suns  are 
stationed  at  convenient  distances  throughout  the  immensity 
of  space,  enlightening,  and  warming,  and  fertilizing  hun- 
dreds of  millions  of  worlds,  all  wheelmg  in  busy  and  silent 
revolution  round  their  several  points  of  attraction,  or  bound 
together  in  systems  of  mutual  gravitation.  Judging  from 
analogy,  and  from  all  that  we  can  perceive  of  the  operations 
of  Him  who  never  works  in  vain,  we  are  constrained  to 
conclude  that  all  these  worlds,  formed,  and  projected,  and 
guided  by  the  potent  arm,  and  under  the  immediate  in- 
spection of  the  Almighty  Sovereign,  are  inhabited  by  dif- 
erent  orders  of  beings,  with  organs  accommodated  to  the 
different  circumstances  in  which  they  are  placed,  and  en- 
dued with  different  degrees  of  intellectual  capacity.  What 
a  noble  scene  !  How  ambitious  ought  we  to  be  to  extend  our 
acquaintance  with  it  in  the  progress  of  our  exisience !  If 
creation  be  so  great,  O  how  great  must  the  Creator  De !  He 
not  only  made,  but  he  upholds  and  governs,  the  mighty  sys- 
tem of  the  universe.  Not  a  movement  of  any  orb  but  is 
guided  by  his  hand ;  and  not  an  action  of  a  rational  creature 
thot  escapes  his  eye.  How  well  is  he  entitled  to  our  homage 
and  obedience ! 

Our  earth,  in  all  its  beauty,  variety,  and  magnificence, — 
oceans,  lakes,  and  rivers,  mountains,  valleys,  and  plains, 
clothed  with  verdure  and  enriched  with  plenty,  diversified  and 
enlivened  with  numerous  inhabitants, — presents  a  rich  and 
charming  scene  to  the  imagination.  But  when  we  contem- 
plate the  number  and  magnitude  of  the  heavenly  orbs,  the 
myriads  of  worlds  profusely  spread  throughout  the  immeasu- 
rable regions  of  space,  upheld  by  almighty  power,  arranged 
and  directed  by  consummate  wisdom,  replenished  with  in- 
habitants, m^.ny  of  whom,  no  doubt,  occupy  a  higher  station, 
13 


146 


ASTRONOMY. 


are  endued  with  nobler  powers,  and  clothed  with  a  brighter 
glory  than  man, — then  the  magnificence  of  our  earth  dwindles 
away,  and  the  dignity  of  our  nature  and  race  seems  absorbed 
in  the  brilliancy  of  the  mighty  constellation  of  intellectual 
being.  Instead  of  overpowering  our  faculties,  or  damping 
our  energy,  let  the  view  elevate  the  soul,  awaken  the  ambi- 
tion, and  invigorate  the  exertions  of  rational  and  immortal 
man.  Let  him  rejoice  that  he  forms  a  part  in  such  a  mighty 
scheme ;  that  he  stands  so  high  on  the  scale  of  existence 
Other  beings  may  be  endued  with  more  vigorous  and  enlarg- 
ed faculties ;  but  he  is  not  doomed  to  remain  stationary  in 
the  place  which  he  now  occupies.  His  powers  are  capable 
of  high  improvement;  and  who  shall  set  limits  to  his  prog- 
ress in  the  pursuit  of  excellence?  What  attainments  are 
within  his  reach,  how  far  his  faculties  may  yet  expand,  what 
noble  rewards  may  yet  crown  his  diligence  and  activity, 
and  with  what  dignity  he  may  yet  appear  among  the  chosen 
of  the  universe,  no  language  can  express,  nor  imagination 
conceive. 

The  wise  and  benevolent  Sovereign  of  Nature,  reigning 
with  vigilant  affection  over  innumerable  worlds,  peopled  with 
inhabitants  whose  organs  are  suited  to  their  respective  situa- 
tions, all  rejoicing  in  the  existence,  adoring  the  perfections, 
and  grateful  for  the  goodness  of  the  bountiful  Creator; — what 
a  magnificent  and  ennobling  scene !  While  the  melody  of 
praise  and  the  incense  of  thanksgiving  ascend  from  all  quar- 
ters of  the  universe  towards  the  throne  of  the  Almighty, 
what  shall  we  think  of  those  few  beings,  perhaps  of  our  race 
chiefly,  who  refuse  to  join  in  the  general  symphony,  and  who 
not  only  withhold  the  tribute  of  adoration  and  gratitude, 
but  audaciously  deny  the  existence  of  the  Creator  ?  Guilty 
and  miserable  creatures !  they  cast  themselves  out  from  the 
great  society  of  blessed  intelligences,  and  forfeit  the  felicity 
prepared  for  the  grateful  and  obedient  subjects  of  the  Univer- 
sal Sovereign. 

In  our  cursory  glance  at  Nature,  we  have  seen  a  wonder- 
ful scene, — minute  precision,  and  splendid  magnificence; 
striking  uniformity,  and  endless  variety ;  apparent  careless- 
ness and  irregularity,  and  the  most  perfect  order  and  exqui- 
site arrangements,  all  united.  In  examining  the  parts,  we 
meet  with  skilful  contrivance,  admirable  workmanship,  and 
exact  adjustment.  As  there  is  an  accurate  adaptation  and 
reciprocal  dependence  of  the  parts,  so  those  parts  are  com- 
bined in  one  harmonious  and  magnificent  whole.     Obvious 


ASTRONOMY.  147 

traces  of  design  every  where  occur ;  and  as  certainly  as  de- 
sign proves  a  designing  cause,  so  certainly  do  we  prove  the 
existence  of  an  intelligent  Creator.  We  do  not,  indeed,  see 
or  feel  the  Deity,  in  the  same  manner  as  we  see  or  feel  a 
material  object.  But  although  he  himself  is  invisible,  his 
operations  are  manifest.  Creation  proclaims  the  being  of 
the  Creator.  The  attributes  of  mind  are  evidently  displayed ; 
and  the  existence  of  God  is  as  fully  ascertained,  as  if  we  saw 
him  with  his  right  hand  upholding  the  sun,  with  his  left  di- 
recting the  stars  in  their  courses,  and  heard  his  voice  pro- 
claiming, "I  form  the  light,  and  create  darkness;  I,  the 
Lord,  do  all  these  things." 


BOOK  III. 


THE    PERFECTIONS    OF    DEITY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    UNITY    OF    DEITY. 

Design  and  contrivance  are  fully  established  by  the  facts 
and  arguments  stated  in  the  preceding  part  of  this  treatise. 
But  design  and  contrivance  are  acts  of  mind,  and  their  ex- 
istence in  the  universe  plainly  proves  it  to  be  the  production 
of  an  Intelligent  Cause.  We  now,  therefore,  proceed  to  in- 
quire into  the  character  of  the  Supreme  Intelligence,  in  so 
far  as  it  is  discoverable  in  the  works  of  his  hand.  We  in- 
deed know,  and  perhaps  at  present  we  can  know,  but  little 
about  the  Divine  Essence,  and  the  manner  in  which  the 
Deity  exists  and  acts ;  but  our  ignorance  or  imperfect  knowl- 
edge of  those  things  is  not  even  a  shadow  of  argument  against 
the  existence  of  the  Supreme  Being.  It  is  nothing  more 
than  a  proof  of  our  limited  capacity.  In  investigating  the 
character  of  the  Deity,  as  discoverable  from  his  works,  we 
may  assume  it  as  a  principle,  that  whatever  qualities  appear 
in  the  design  and  contrivance,  may  justly  be  ascribed  to  the 
designing  and  contriving  Mind,  in  the  degree,  at  least,  in 
which  they  are  manifested  in  the  design  and  execution.  For 
instance,  the  planets,  bodies  of  vast  magnitude,  have  been 
projected  with  prodigious  velocity  ;  and  that  velocity  and  the 
direction  have  been  so  nicely  adjusted  to  the  quantity  of  mat- 
ter in  each  of  the  planets,  and  to  their  respective  distances 
from  the  sun,  as  to  make  them  describe  such  orbits  as  shall 
ensure  the  stability  and  permanency  of  the  system.  We 
cannot  err  in  ascribing  to  the  Author  of  the  system  a  power 
equal  to  the  projection  of  the  planets  in  their  orbits  with  the 


THE    UNITY    OF    DEITY.  149 

requisite  velocity,  and  a  wisdom  equal  to  what  was  necessary 
in  order  to  the  establishment  of  such  conditions  as  are  suf- 
ficient for  the  security  of  the  system.  And  in  so  far  as  the 
constitution  of  things  promotes  the  happiness  of  sentient  be- 
ings, the  attribute  of  goodness  must  also  be  admitted. 

Although  we  cannot  err  in  ascribing  to  the  Deity  those  at- 
tributes which  are  manifested  in  creation,  and  in  that  degree 
in  which  they  are  there  displayed,  yet  we  are  not  to  limit  the 
perfections  of  God  by  his  works.  Before  we  can  pretend, 
from  the  works  of  Deity,  to  set  limits  to  his  attributes,  two 
conditions  seem  to  be  requisite.  First,  we  must  completely 
understand  the  work  in  all  its  extent.  Secondly,  we  must 
perceive  some  defect  in  the  obvious  plan,  which  could  arise 
only  from  a  limitation  of  the  perfections.  If  the  plan  be  per- 
fect in  its  kind,  we  are  not  authorized  to  infer  that  he  who 
contrived  and  executed  it  was  unable  to  have  contrived  and 
executed  a  nobler  plan.  Because  the  architect  has  built  a 
cottage,  we  are  not  to  conclude  that  he  was  incapable  of  con- 
structing a  palace.  He  has  executed  his  plan;  and  we  have 
no  evidence  of  his  incapacity  for  a  more  extensive  and  splen- 
did work.  If  the  present  work  be  well  finished,  according 
to  the  obvious  design,  the  presumption  is,  that  he  could 
equally  well  have  built  a  more  superb  mansion  if  he  had  un- 
dertaken it. 

In  like  manner,  while  we  ascribe  to  God  all  the  perfections 
manifested  in  his  works,  we  are  not  to  imagine  that  all  the 
resources  of  his  perfections  were  exhausted  in  the  execution 
of  those  works  which  fall  under  our  inspection.  He  has  ex- 
ercised all  that  perfection  which  his  plan  required ;  and  the 
presumption  is,  that  he  could  have  exercised  more  if  more 
had  been  needful.  For  example,  mighty  power  is  displayed 
in  the  projection  of  the  planets  ;  but  we  are  not  authorized  to 
infer  that  all  the  power  of  God  was  exerted  in  that  projec- 
tion. The  power  requisite. in  order  to  the  accomplishment 
of  the  end  was  exerted ;  the  exertion  of  a  greater  degree  of 
power  would  have  been  subversive  of  the  end;  and,  there- 
fore, the  exercise  of  power  was  regulated  as  well  as  directed 
by  wisdom.  A  similar  observation  may  be  applied  to  the 
other  attributes  of  God.  In  judging  of  his  perfections  from 
his  works,  we  must  not  lose  sight  of  his  plan,  and  we  are  to 
ascribe  to  him  all  the  perfections  manifested  in  the  plan,  and 
all  that  by  legitimate  reasoning  can  be  deduced  from  the  ex- 
ecution of  it. 

It  is  reckoned  a  fundamental  rule  in  philosophy,  not  to  sup- 
pose more  causes  than  are  needful  to  produce  the  effect.  This 
13* 


150  THE    UNITY    OF    DEITY. 

principle  conducts  us  to  the  unity  of  Deity ;  for  the  necessi- 
ty of  finding  an  adequate  efficient  cause  does  not  compel  us 
to  have  recourse  to  a  plurality  of  gods.  The  power  that  was 
equal  to  the  creation  of  a  part  was  equal  to  the  creation  of 
the  whole.  But  we  are  not  obliged  to  rely  on  a  principle  of 
this  kind,  in  order  to  establish  the  unity  of  Deity.  The  uni- 
formity of  plan  that  pervades  the  system  indicates  unity  of 
counsel,  at  least  in  its  formation.  We  can  trace  unity  of  plan 
in  the  great  fabric  of  the  universe,  so  far  as  we  are  capable 
of  observing  it.  The  law  of  gravitation  prevails  throughout 
the  solar  system.  All  the  bodies  in  that  system  seem  to  re- 
volve on  their  own  axes:  all  the  planets  move  in  the  same 
direction  in  the  zodiac.  The  light  of  the  fixed  stars  affects 
the  eye  in  the  same  w^ay  as  that  of  the  sun ;  and  it  travels  at 
the  same  rate,  as  we  learn  from  the  delicate  discovery  of  their 
aberration.  On  descending  to  our  earth,  we  find  a  similar 
uniformity  prevailing,  and  can  easily  trace  the  harmonious 
combination  of  many  great  parts  into  one  magnificent  whole. 

The  earth  is  a  component  part  of  the  solar  system  ;  and  in 
it  many  independent  conditions  must  meet,  in  order  to  render 
it  a  convenient  residence  for  beings  organized  as  its  present 
inhabitants  are.  It  is  a  terraqueous  globe,  clothed  w^ith  an  in- 
visible aerial  robe ;  and  the  dry  land  is  covered  with  a  mould 
capable  of  imbibing  moisture  and  supporting  vegetation. 
The  earth  is  enlightened  and  warmed  by  the  sun,  the  cen- 
tral body  of  the  system.  If  the  earth  had  been  a  detached 
body,  wholly  unconnected  with  any  other  orb,  darkness  and 
sterility  would  have  established  upon  it  an  everlasting  empire. 
But  the  sun  is  provided  ;  a  condition  essential  to  vegetable  and 
animal  existence.  The  atmosphere  also  was  requisite.  It 
refracts  and  reflects  the  beams  of  the  sun  in  all  directions, 
and  sheds  a  flood  of  light  on  the  earth.  The  sun  exhales 
vapors  from  the  ocean  ;  the  atmosphere  supports  those  vapors, 
and  by  its  currents  carries  them  to  the  dry  land,  where  they 
descend  in  refreshing  showers,  affording  nourishment  to  vege- 
tables, and  a  wholesome  beverage  to  man  and  beast.  With 
all  the  conditions  mentioned,  the  earth  might  have  been  the 
mansion  of  melancholy  silence  and  eternal  sterility ;  for  the 
sun,  the  atmosphere,  the  ocean,  the  soil,  cannot  produce  a 
single  blade  of  grass,  or  a  single  herb,  or  a  single  tree,  without 
seed.  But  seed  is  liberally  provided  ;  and  hence  the  earth  is 
clothed  wdth  verdure  and  enriched  with  plenty. 

The  sun,  however,  might  have  beamed  in  the  firmament, 
the  rain  distilled  on  the  tender  plant,  and  luxuriant  herbage 
crowned  the  mountain  and  waved  on  the  plain,  without  a  sin- 


THE    UNITY    OF    DEITY.  151 

gle  sentient  being  to  enjoy  the  scene,  or  partake  of  the  rich 
feast  which  the  bountiful  Creator  had  provided.  But  God 
does  not  work  in  vain.  Having  fitted  up  such  a  noble  habi- 
tation, he  replenished  it  with  tenants  of  many  different  kinds, 
all  capable  of  enjoying  the  accommodations  with  which  it  is 
stored,  and  of  relishing  the  happiness  which  it  is  calculated 
to  afford.  There  are  perhaps  21),000  different  kinds  of  living 
creatures  upon  our  globe.  Among  these  there  is  a  great  va- 
riety ;  but  at  the  same  time  a  uniformity  so  striking,  as  to 
indicate  the  same  skilful  hand  in  their  formation.  They  all 
respire  by  lungs,  gills,  or  air-tubes.  All  animals  take  in  food  : 
in  all,  the  processes  of  digestion  and  assimilation  are  carried 
on ;  and  an  excrementitious  part  is  thrown  off.  They  all 
propagate  their  kinds. 

Veoretables  draw  sustenance  from  inorganic  matter,  and 
prepare  food  for  sentient  beings.  Plants  have  their  appro- 
priate vessels  for  conveying  the  sap  and  peculiar  juices 
through  the  stem,  branches,  and  leaves;  animals  have  blood- 
vessels for  an  analogous  purpose.  The  gradations  in  the 
animal  world  all  proclaim  the  workmanship  of  the  same  hand. 
Here  we  see  a  very  complicated  system  :  many  independent 
parts  are  combined  into  one  harmonious  whole.  The  differ- 
ent parts  of  nature  are  admirably  adjusted  to  each  other.  The 
relations  between  the  different  parts  of  the  system  ;  between 
the  sun,  the  earth,  the  air,  and  the  ocean ;  between  the  ani- 
mate and  inanimate  parts  of  creation,  direct  us  to  one  power- 
ful Creator. 

One  agent  is  often  made  subservient  to  many  different  pur- 
poses. One  sun  illuminates  many  worlds  ;  the  light  and 
heat  which  emanate  from  that  luminary  answer  many  valua- 
ble ends.  To  man  the  uses  of  air  and  water  are  multifarious. 
The  ocean  is  also  the  seat  of  much  enjoyment,  and  the  air 
the  chief  scene  of  felicity  to  many  a  happy  being.  In  travel- 
ling over  the  earth,  we  meet  with  different  climates ;  nature 
puts  on  various  aspects ;  and  nations  differ  in  their  appear- 
ance, manners,  and  laws.  Still  we  meet  with  nothing  indi- 
cating the  hand  of  a  different  artist,  or  the  government  of  a 
different  sovereign.  All  nature  points  to  one  great  Author. 
Unity  of  plan  pervades  the  universe ;  and  from  this  unity  of 
plan  we  may  fairly  infer  the  unity  of  Deity.  One  Supreme 
Mind  planned  the  great  system  of  nature,  still  upholds  it  in 
existence,  and  continually  superintends  the  government  of 
the  whole. 


152  THE    POWER    OF    DEITY. 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE    POV/ER    OF    DEITY. 

That  the  Deity  is  an  all-powerful  Being  evidently  appears 
from  his  works.  The  Architect  who  could  build  ti:e  stupen- 
dous fabric  of  the  universe  must  be  omnipotent.  We  can 
conceive  no  bounds  to  the  power  of  Him  who  was  able  to  sta- 
tion the  sun  in  the  firmament,  and  to  launch  the  planets  with 
such  velocity  in  their  orbits.  Limiting  our  view  to  the  solar 
system,  which  is  merely  a  speck  in  the  immensity  of  space, 
and  amid  the  myriads  of  worlds  with  which  space  is  re- 
plenished, must  we  not  be  amazed  on  beholding  the  sun  in 
majesty  occupying  a  central  position,  and  presiding  over  the 
great  globes,  which  in  silent  and  unceasing  revolution  wheel 
around  him?  Think  on  the  dimensions  of  the  planets,  and 
their  rapidity  in  their  orbits.  What  a  potent  arm  must  have 
projected,  with  such  prodigious  velocity,  those  vast  bodies 
into  the  illimitable  void  !  Our  earth,  almost  eight  thousand 
miles  in  diameter,  travels  about  fifteen  hundred  thousand 
miles  in  a  day  ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  it  is  spinning  on  its  own 
axis,  and  turning  up,  successively,  the  vegetables  and  ani- 
mals which  it  nurses  on  its  bosom,  to  the  genial  influence  of 
the  solar  rays.  And,  with  this  inconceivable  rapidity,  how 
unceasing,  steady,  and  uniform,  are  its  motions !  The  same 
holds  in  the  other  planets,  some  of  them  vastly  larger  than 
our  globe.  Each  of  them  regularly  and  steadily  performs  its 
revolutions.  The  Power  capable  of  producing  those  effects 
is  immeasurably  greater  than  w'hat  we  experience  in  our- 
selves, or  perceive  in  any  visible  agent,  and  may  with  pro- 
priety be  described  as  omnipotent ;  because  nothing  in  our 
observation  or  experience  authorizes  us  to  set  limits  to  it. 

We  ascribe  injinity  to  all  the  attributes  of  Deity.  But  in- 
finity is  a  word  to  which  we  can  attach  no  precise  concep- 
tions. The  very  use  of  the  word  is  an  admission  that  the 
thing  to  which  it  is  applied  is  above  the  grasp  of  our  com- 
prehension ;  and  when  applied  to  any  of  the  perfections  of 
Deity,  it  means  that  those  perfections  go  as  far  as  our  minds 
can  follow  them,  and  how  much  farther  we  cannot  tell.  And 
certainly,  when  we  contemplate  the  power  displayed  in  the 
universe,  and  the  numberless  instances  and  incalculable  va- 
riety of  the  manifestations  of  wisdom  and  goodness,  we  may, 
with  reverence,  admiration,  and  gratitude,  describe  those  per- 
fections of  Deity  as  infinite. 


THE    WISDOM    OF    DEITY.  153 

It  is  obvious  that  the  Power  which  could  create  the  world 
is  able  to  uphold  it  in  being.  God  must  preserve  the  world 
which  he  has  created,  for  that  which  derived  its  existence 
from  another  does  not  necessarily  exist.  It  could  not  so 
exist  in  the  first  moment  of  its  being,  nor  yet  at  any  future 
period;  and  must,  consequently,  owe  the  continuance  of  its 
existence  to  Him  from  whom  its  being  was  primarily  derived. 
There  is  no  medium  between  necessary  existence  and  de- 
pendence on  a  cause.  A  creature  can  no  more  preserve  than 
make  itself 

There  is  an  essential  difference  between  creation  and  works 
of  art.  For  though  works  of  art  cannot  make  themselves, 
yet,  when  made,  they  can  continue  to  exist  without  the  artist 
"who  made  them.  A  house  cannot  build  itself;  but,  when 
built,  it  stands  as  long  as  the  materials  and  workmanship 
last.  We  must  observe,  however,  that  the  artist  merely 
gives  a  particular  form  to  that  matter  which  depends  on  the 
power  and  will  of  the  Creator  for  the  continuance  of  its  exist- 
ence. The  particular  form  given  by  the  artist  exists  in  sub- 
jection to  the  laws  which  the  Creator  has  established  for  the 
government  of  that  matter  which  he  upholds  in  being.  Al- 
though the  facts  that  God  at  first  created,  and  that  he  still 
preserves  all  things,  are  clear,  yet  the  manner  of  creation  and 
of  preservation  are  equally  above  our  reach. 


CHAPTER  in. 

THE    WISDOM    OF    DEITY. 

Wisdom  is  manifested  m  employing  fit  and  adequate  means 
for  the  accomplishment  of  its  ends.  It  obviously  appears  to 
have  been  the  purpose  of  God  that  this  world  should  be  a 
proper  place  of  residence  for  animals  of  many  different  kinds, 
and  that  all  the  animals  should  enjoy  the  means  of  preserv- 
ing, for  a  time,  the  life  of  the  individual,  and  of  continuing 
the  species.  These  ends  are  completely  accomplished,  and 
accomplished  by  such  a  complicated  and  diversified  combi- 
nation of  independent  circumstances  as  gives  a  most  exalted 
view  of  the  divine  wisdom.  This  world  was  to  be  fitted  up 
as  a  place  of  residence  for  its  present  inhabitants.  For  this 
purpose,  light  and  heat,  and  air  and  moisture,  were  neces- 
sary. Accordingly,  the  sun  was  provided  to  enlighten  and  to 
warm  the  earth;   a  vast  basin  was  scooped  out,  and  the  waters 


154  THE    WISDOM    OF    DEITY. 

of  the  ocean  poured  into  it ;  the  atmosphere  was  thrown 
around  the  earth  to  be  the  carrier  and  dispenser  of  this  moist- 
ure exhaled  by  the  sun. 

Between  the  animated  and  in  animated  parts  of  nature  we 
i.ee  the  most  astonishing  relations.  There  is  a  fine  corre- 
spondence between  the  atmosphere  and  the  respiratory  organs 
of  animals.  These  organs  are  very  different  in  different  liv- 
ing creatures;  but  in  each  they  are  wisely  accommodated  to 
the  configuration  and  circumstances  of  the  animal,  and  in 
all  they  accomplish  their  great  vital  function.  In  the  atmos- 
phere, and  in  the  organs  of  respiration  in  connection  with 
the  other  parts  of  the  constitution,  we  have  an  adequate  pro- 
vision tor  the  existence  of  the  animal;  but  it  is  subject  to  a 
daily  and  hourly  waste,  and  needs  a  frequent  supply.  This 
supply  is  provided,  as  well  as  a  complete  apparatus  for  taking 
it  into  the  system. 

The  earth  is  clothed  with  a  great  variety  of  vegetables, 
which  extract  nourishment  from  inorganic  matter,  and  afford 
sustenance  to  man  and  beast.  All  the  different  animals  are 
furnished  with  means  of  subsistence ;  and  when  we  attend 
to  the  manner  in  which  every  animal  is  fitted  for  collecting, 
eating,  and  digesting  its  food,  we  perceive  a  display  of  con- 
summate wisdom  in  the  admirable  adaptation  and  combina- 
tion of  means,  in  order  to  the  accomplishment  of  an  end.  As 
wisdom  undeniably  appears  in  the  complete  provision  made 
for  the  preservation  of  the  individual,  so  it  is  equally  mani- 
fest in  the  efficacious  means  which  are  employed  for  the  con- 
tinuation of  the  species.  Some  classes  of  animals  live  longer 
and  some  shorter,  but  all  are  capable  of  continuing  their 
kinds;  and  we  see  a  wonderful  system  established,  for  nurs- 
ing and  protecting  the  young  till  they  are  capable  of  provi- 
ding for  themselves.  No  species  perishes  either  through  a 
failure  of  the  means  of  subsistence  to  the  individual,  or  from 
incapacity  to  continue  the  species;  and  the  reproductive 
powers  of  the  several  kinds  are  adapted  and  proportioned  to 
the  term  of  their  existence,  aiKl  to  the  dangers  to  which  they 
are  exposed. 

When  we,  then,  consider  the  boundless  extent  and  vast 
variety  of  things,  the  skilful  adaptations  that  every  where  oc- 
cur, and  the  beautiful  order  and  regularity  that  prevail  in 
nature,  we  must  pronounce  Him  who  was  capable  of  conceiv- 
ing and  executi.'ior  such  a  plan  a  Being  of  infinite  wisdom. 
His  wisdom  no  diUiculty  can  bafHe ;  it  is  equal  to  eveiy  emer- 
gency. In  every  possible  combination  of  circumstances, 
he  at  once  perceives  the  best  plan,  and  the  best  means  for 


THE    GOODNESS    OP    DEITY.  155 

carrying  that  plan  into  execution.  But  on  the  wisdom  of 
the  Creator  we  have  ah-eady  had  frequent  opportunities  of 
remarking,  when  contemphiting  particular  parts  of  his  works  ; 
and,  with  respect  to  man,  considered  as  a  moral  agent,  a 
number  of  observations  relating  to  this  attribute  of  Deity  will 
prese*.it  themselves,  in  a  subsequent  part  of  the  treatise. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    GOODNESS    OF    DEITY. 

The  same  observations  which  prove  the  wisdom  of  Deity, 
may,  in  general,  be  adduced  as  evidences  of  goodness  ;  for 
if  the  end  to  be  accomplished  promote  the  happiness  of  sen- 
tient beings,  then  every  display  of  wisdom  in  the  accomplish- 
ment of  that  end  is  a  demonstration  of  benevolence;  and,  in 
most  instances,  the  same  facts  which  demonstrate  wisdom, 
prove  benevolence  also.  In  order  to  prove  malevolence,  or 
even  the  absence  of  goodness,  it  would  be  necessary  to  show 
that  the  life  of  the  individual  is  a  state  of  misery,  or  utterly 
destitute  of  enjoyment,  and  that  the  preservation  of  that  life, 
and  the  continuation  of  the  species,  are  merely  a  prolonga- 
tion of  suffering,  or  of  insipid  existence.  It  would  be  neces- 
sary to  prove  this,  not  in  a  few  insulated  cases  only,  but  to 
show  that  it  predominates  in  the  system  of  nature.  A  proof 
of  this  kind  no  person  in  the  right  use  of  reason  will  attempt. 

Di.  Paley  rests  the  proof  of  the  divine  goodness  on  the 
two  following  propositions  : — 

1st.  "  That,  in  a  vast  plurility  of  instances  in  which  con- 
trivance is  perceivable,  the  design  of  the  contrivance  is  ben- 
eficial." 

2d.  *'  That  the  Deity  has  superadded  pleasure  to  animal 
sensations  beyond  what  was  necessary  for  any  other  pur- 
pose ;  or  v/hen  the  purpose,  so  far  as  it  was  necessary, 
might  have  been  effected  by  the  operation  of  pain." 

Both  of  these  propositions  can  be  clearly  establishsd  ;  and 
the  establishment  of  them  proves  the  goodness  of  Deity.  I 
shall  therefore  make  a  few  observations  in  illustration  of 
them. 

1st.  "  In  a  vast  plurality  of  instances  in  which  contrivance 
is  perceived,  the  design  of  the  contrivance  is  beneficial." 
This  proposition  I  am  inclined  to  render  more  general  than 
it  is  stated  by  Dr.  Paley.     For  in  animated  nature,  which 


156  THE    GOODNESS    OF    DEITY. 

is  the  region  where  goodness  is  felt  and  enjoyed,  I  know  of 
no  instance  of  contrivance  which  is  not  beneficial  to  the 
being  which  is  the  object  of  that  contrivance.  The  benefit 
of  the  contrivance  is  indeed  more  obvious  in  some  cases  than 
in  others :  in  most  cases,  I  believe,  it  may  be  perceived  ;  and 
in  no  instance  can  it  be  shown  to  be  injurious.  It  is  obvious 
in  most  of  the  organs  of  sense ;  and  all  the  organs  of  sense 
are  undeniably  beneficial.  Are  not  the  articulations  of  the 
bones  beneficial?  Is  not  the  configuration  of  the  alimentary 
and  intestinal  canal  beneficial  ?  Are  not  the  hoof  of  the 
horse  and  the  paw  of  the  lion  beneficial  ?  Take  any  an- 
imd,  ap  1^  in  attending  to  the  whole,  or  to  any  part  of  its  or- 
ganization, you  will  find  it  adapted  to  the  manners  and  cir- 
cumstances of  the  animal,  and  conducive  to  its  existence, 
security,  and  happiness.  Consider  the  vast  variety  of  sen- 
tient beings,  as  well  as  the  various  contrivances  in  their 
structure,  and  when  you  reflect  that  all  these  are  conducive 
to  their  welfare,  you  must  be  astonished  at  the  comprehen- 
sive beneficence  of  the  Creator. 

The  goodness  of  Deity  is  manifested  in  the  liberal  provis- 
ion made  for  the  subsistence  of  every  living  creature.  There 
is  a  relation  strongly  expressive  of  benignity  between  ani- 
mated and  inanimated  nature;  for  the  earth  produces  a  suffi- 
ciency for  the  subsistence  of  all  the  living  beings  upon  it ; 
and  in  life  all  animals  seem  to  have  enjoyment.  The  heart 
of  him  who  sympathizes  with  the  inferior  creatures  in  their 
pleasures,  will  often  be  delighted  on  contemplating  their  feli- 
city, and  will  feel  its  own  happiness  increased  by  witnessing 
their  enjoyments.  If  we  turn  to  mankind,  they,  also,  enjoy 
much  felicity.  Even  after  all  the  evils  that  we  bring  upon 
ourselves  by  the  abuse  of  our  free  agency,  we  are  oftener  in 
health  than  in  sickness — oftener  in  joy  than  in  sorrow. 
That  there  are  sorrows  and  pains,  is  evident ;  but  in  human 
life  they  do  not  preponderate.  They  will  engage  our  atten- 
tion in  a  subsequent  part  of  the  work. 

2d.  ''  The  Deity  has  superadded  pleasure  to  animal  sensa- 
tions, beyond  what  was  necessary  for  any  other  purpose  ;  or 
where  the  purpose,  so  far  as  it  was  necessary,  might  have 
been  effected  by  the  operation  of  pain." 

If  it  be  the  will  of  the  Supreme  Being  that  sentient  cit;a- 
tures  shall  exist,  he  must  endow  them  with  the  means  and 
capacities  requisite  to  the  continuation  of  their  existence. 
But  those  means  might  auswvjr  the  end,  without  contributing, 
in  any  degree,  to  the  hippiiioss  of  the  animal.  They  might 
demonstrate  power  and  wisdom,  and  yet  be  no  proof  of  good- 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    DEITY.  157 

ness.  For  instance,  food  is  necessary  to  the  support  of  ani- 
mal life ;  every  animal,  therefore,  must  be  provided  with  the 
means  of  taking  in  food ;  and  if  these  means  be  well  adapted 
to  the  end,  they  certainly  demonstrate  wisdom.  But  the  act 
of  eating  might  be  attended  with  no  pleasure ;  nay,  it  might 
be  attended  with  positive  pain ;  and  the  animal  might  be 
prompted  to  it  merely  by  the  desire  of  removing  a  greater 
pain  by  submitting  to  a  less.  If  there  be  enjoyment  in  taking 
in  food,  which  is  certainly  the  case  with  all  animals,  then 
this  is  a  demonstration  of  goodness  in  the  Creator ;  for  it 
shows  that  he  has  superadded  pleasure  beyond  what  was  ne- 
cessary for  the  accomplishment  of  the  purpose. 

The  organs  of  sense  were  either  necessary  to  the  existence 
of  the  animal,  or  they  were  not  necessary  ;  but,  in  either  case, 
they  prove  goodness  in  the  Deity.  For  if  we  consider  them 
as  necessary,  still  they  might  have  performed  their  office 
without  communicating  any  positive  pleasure ;  but,  in  fact, 
they  are  all  sources  of  enjoyment  to  the  creature,  and  conse- 
quently proofs  of  goodness  in  the  Creator.  If  we  consider 
them  as  not  necessary,  the  proof  of  goodness  is,  at  least,  not 
weakened.  For,  in  this  case,  they  must  have  been  bestow- 
ed merely  as  inlets  to  happiness,  and  are  marks  of  gratuitous 
goodness.  If  we  glance  at  the  organs  of  sense,  however,  we 
shall  find  them  not  only  useful,  but  also  sources  of  pleasure. 
What  a  variety  of  enjoyments  do  we  obtain  by  means  of  the 
eye !  That  it  is  a  large  inlet  of  felicity,  no  person  in  the 
right  use  of  reason  will  deny.  But  if  the  Deity  had  been  a 
malevolent  being,  this  organ  might  have  been  the  occasion 
of  incredible  infelicity  and  pain.  In  a  diseased  state,  it 
sometimes  cannot  bear  the  light.  Unless  the  Deity  had  been 
benevolent,  the  eye,  even  in  its  natural  state,  might  have  been 
as  much  or  more  irritated  by  the  action  of  light,  than  it  pres- 
ently is  even  when  diseased.  Compare,  then,  the  difference 
betv/een  a  sound  and  a  diseased  eye  ;  consider  that  the  latter 
might  have  been  the  natural  state  of  the  organ,  and  certainly 
you  will  acknowledge  the  goodness  of  Deity. 

Our  minds  are  so  constituted,  that  we  receive  pleasure 
from  the  sight  of  many  objects  in  nature  :  they  might,  how- 
ever, have  been  so  con^jtituted  that  the  sight  of  those  objects 
would  have  been  a  source  of  perpetual  ix^ritation  and  pain. 
The  verdure  of  the  earth,  which  is  so  grateful  to  the  eye,  and 
the  variegated  landscape,  the  mountain  and  the  wood,  the 
valley  and  the  stream,  so  exhilarating  to  the  mind,  might 
have  produced  a  contrary  effect,  and  might  have  weighed  as 
much  in  the  scale  of  pain,  as  they  now  do  in  that  of  pleasure. 
14 


158  THE    GOODNESS    OF    DEITV. 

What  is  true  with  respect  to  the  eye,  also  holds  of  the  other 
organs  of  sense.  The  ear  is  a  source  of  much  enjoyment. 
Music  yields  high  gratification,  and  often  soothes  and  cheers 
the  mind  under  the  anxieties  by  which  it  is  assailed.  But 
the  ear  might  have  been  otherwise  constituted.  It  might 
have  been  so  formed,  that  the  gentlest  whisper  would  have 
acted  as  powerfully  upon  it  as  a  peal  of  thunder  now  does ; 
and  that  the  most  melodious  note  would  have  been  as  grating 
as  a  piercing  scream.  How  much  more  felicitous  is  our 
present  condition,  than  what  it  could  have  possibly  been  in 
such  circumstances ! 

The  sense  of  smelling,  also,  not  only  contributes  to  our  se- 
curity, but  greatly  promotes  our  happiness.  How  exhila- 
rating is  the  breeze  impregnated  with  fragrant  odors !  How 
sweet  the  scent  of  the  fields  after  a  gentle  summer  shower ! 
If  the  Deity  had  not  been  benevolent,  we  might  have  been  so 
constituted  that  every  object  around  us  would  have  affected 
our  olfactory  nerves  as  disagreeably  as  assafoetida,  or  even  the 
intolerable  stench  of  the  zurilla.  Taste,  likewise,  is  a  source 
of  much  pleasure.  But  if  a  malevolent  being  had  been  the 
author  of  our  existence,  every  thing  might  have  been  made 
to  taste  like  gall  and  wormwood.  Feeling,  also,  might  have 
been  the  cause  of  great  suffering;  for  every  thing  we  touched 
might  have  irritated  like  a  nettle;  but  at  present  it  is  the 
source  of  much  pleasant  sensation.  All  our  senses  are  wise- 
ly and  beneficently  accommodated  to  bur  nature  and  circum- 
stances, and  so  formed  as  both  to  contribute  to  our  security 
and  to  promote  our  happiness.  AVhen  we  enjoy  health  and 
the  approbation  of  our  moral  nature,  how  cheerful  and  happy 
do  we  feel !  Notwithstanding  the  murmurings  of  the  queri- 
monious  satirist,  or  the  complaints  of  the  discontented  phi- 
losopher, man  really  is,  or  may  be,  a  happy  being.  Nature 
around  him  wears  the  aspect  of  placid  satisfaction,  exhibits 
cheering  scenes  of  active  enjoyment,  and  utters  the  gladden- 
ing note  of  felicity. 

The  goodness  of  Deity  appears  not  only  in  the  orpneral 
structure  of  our  body,  and  in  the  formation  of  the  different 
organs  of  sense,  but  also  in  that  constitution  of  animated 
beings  in  which  there  is  an  effort  to  heal  wounds  and  expel 
disease.  The  slightest  bruise  mi2:ht  have  festered,  and,  like 
the  breaking  out  of  waters,  might  have  increased  till  it  de- 
molished the  organized  fabric.  But  nature  makes  a  healing 
effort,  and  often  wonderfully  succeeds.  This,  however,  is 
not  all.  Medicinal  substances  are  provided  in  the  mineral, 
vegetable,  and  animal  kingdoms,  of  which  man  may   avail 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    DEITY.  159 

himself  to  aid  the  efforts  of  his  constitution  in  healing  wounds 
and  curing  diseases.  Here,  as  in  every  department  of  nature, 
we  meet  with  an  order  of  things  fitted  to  awaken  the  curiosi- 
ty, invite  the  research,  reward  the  ingenuity,  and  increase  the 
happiness  of  man. 

The  goodness  of  Deity  has  provided  means  not  only  for 
healing  wounds  and  curing  diseases,  but  also  for  aiding  our 
organs  of  sense  under  the  infirmities  of  nature  and  the  de- 
cays of  age.  The  eye,  for  instance,  is  a  beautiful  and  use- 
ful, but  delicate  organ.  It  is  liable  to  infirmity  and  decay; 
but  spectacles  may  be  made  to  assist  the  sight  under  almost 
every  configuration  of  the  eye,  and  in  every  period  of  life. 
Similar  remarks  may  be  applied  to  the  ear  ;  and  the  eye  and 
the  ear  are  two  great  inlets  of  pleasure.  An  observation  of 
the  same  kind  may  be  extended  to  our  bodily  diseases.  The 
malignity  of  the  small-pox  was  greatly  mitigated  by  inocula- 
tion, and  appears  to  be  still  farther  subdued  by  vaccination. 
These  remarks  show  wisdom  and  goodness  plainly  engraven 
on  the  face  of  nature ;  for  those  attributes  evidently  predom- 
inate, so  far  as  our  observations  extend.  -But  before  we  are 
able  to  explain  all  the  phenomena,  and  to  answer  objections, 
we  must  have  some  conception  of  the  plan  of  Deity,  particu- 
larly in  reference  to  man,  who  is  unquestionably  the  chief 
living  being  on  this  earth.  He  stands  at  the  head  of  the 
animal  creation  on  our  globe,  and  the  scheme  of  government 
which  he  is  under,  must,  to  a  certain  extent,  affect  the  desti- 
ny of  the  inferior  creatures.  The  uniformity  of  the  system 
requires  that,  in  so  far  as  they  share  a  common  nature  with 
man,  they  shall  be  under  the  operation  of  common  laws. 

In  forming  an  estimate  of  the  perfections  of  God  from  his 
works  and  government,  we  must  attentively  consider  the  end 
he  has  in  view.  To  form  some  imaginary  scheme  of  our 
own,  and  to  pretend  by  that  scheme  to  measure  the  divine 
perfections  as  exhibited  in  the  conduct  of  a  very  different 
plan,  is  altogether  absurd.  We  must  take  the  plan  of  God, 
as  it  may  be  fairly  collected  from  the  established  system  of 
things ;  and  if  that  plan,  and  the  means  employed  for  carry- 
ing it  on,  be  compatible  with  wisdom  and  goodness,  then  all 
objections  against  the  divine  perfections,  arising  from  some 
imaginary  plan  of  our  own,  are  nugatory.  I  shall,  therefore, 
in  the  following  chapter,  attend  to  the  character  and  state 
of  man,  which  will  lead  to  observations  on  the  design  and 
government  of  the  Deity  respecting  him. 


160        THE  CHARACTER  AND  STATE  OF  MAN. 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE    CHARACTER    AND    STATE    OF    MAN. 

Man  is  the  lord  of  this  world,  and  he  is  honorably  distin- 
guished from  its  other  inhabitants  by  peculiar  qualities.  In 
considering  his  character  and  state,  we  observe  that  he  is  a 
rational  and  immortal  being ;  that  at  present  he  is  in  a  state 
of  trial  and  discipline,  under  a  system  of  moral  government; 
and  that  his  improvement  and  happiness  are  carried  on  and 
promoted  by  the  exercise  of  his  faculties.  To  each  of  these 
we  shall  for  a  little  attend  ;  and  a  careful  contemplation  of 
the  phenomena  will  enable  us  to  discover  and  understand  the 
plan  of  God  respecting  him. 

I.  Man  is  a  rational  being.  While  the  inferior  animals  are 
under  the  guidance  of  instinct,  he  is  endued  with  nobler  prin- 
ciples. Besides  appetites,  which  he  has  in  common  with  the 
brutes,  he  is  dignified  with  intellectual,  active,  and  moral 
powers,  which  they  do  not  possess.  Perception,  memory, 
imagination,  reason,  a  moral  faculty,  emotions,  and  a 
voluntary  faculty,  are  wonderfully  combined  in  his  nature, 
and  form  a  singular  and  interesting  being.  He  can  observe, 
compare,  and  judge  ;  he  can  vary  his  means,  and  suit  his 
operations  to  the  circumstances  in  which  he  is  placed.  He 
can  turn  in  upon  himself,  and  trace  the  operations  of  his  own 
mind.  He  can  survey  the  vast  system  of  the  universe,  dis- 
cover the  laws  by  which  it  is  governed,  and  learn  the  attri- 
butes of  the  Creator  and  Governor  from  the  works  of  his 
hand.  He  can  surround  himself  by  a  new  creation,  and 
combine  in  endless  variety  the  objects  with  which  he  is  ac- 
quainted. He  remembers  the  past ;  and  the  lessons  of  ex- 
perience not  only  furnish  him  with  instructions  for  the  regu- 
lation of  his  present  conduct,  but  also  enable  him  to  antici- 
pate what  he  may  expect  from  the  future.  He  hopes  and 
he  fears  ;  he  loves,  and  desires,  and  pursues ;  he  dreads  and 
he  shuns.  His  moral  faculty  indicates  the  path  of  duty,  and 
it  applauds  or  condenms.  His  intellectual  and  active  powers 
are  finely  adjusted  to  each  other,  and  form  a  being  capable 
of  much  present  enjoyment,  and  of  vast  improvement  in  in- 
tellectual and  moral  excellence.  How  absurd  is  it  to  allege 
that  undesigning  chance  produced  such  an  intelligent  and 
contriving  being  as  man  ! 

II.  Man  is  immortal.     The  Creator  has  not  constituted 
him  an  ephemeral  being.     He  is  destined  to  inherit  eternity. 


THE    CHARACTER    AND    STATE    OF    MAN.  161 

And  we  are  not  driven  to  a  future  state  in  order  to  find  a 
remedy  against  present  disorders.  The  conclusion  nat- 
urally results  from  a  fair  and  candid  consideration  of  the 
phenomena. 

First,  Our  bodily  fabric  dies  and  is  dissolved ;  but  an 
opinion  in  favor  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  has  almost 
universally  prevailed  in  every  age,  and  in  every  nation,  among 
all  ranks  of  men,  and  in  every  stage  of  society.  It  is  not  the 
badge  of  a  sect,  but  the  creed  of  man.  We  may  find  him 
without  arts  and  without  laws ;  but  the  sentiment  of  immor- 
tality seems  every  where,  and  in  every  period,  to  have  been 
entertained.  The  mind  is  impressed  with  an  involuntary  pre- 
sage of  existence ;  and  although  the  notion  of  a  future  state 
has  been  differently  modified,  according  to  the  different  cir- 
cumstances of  those  who  have  believed  it,  still  the  same  gen- 
eral notion  has  prevailed.  On  this  subject^  the  joint  opinion 
of  mankind,  respecting  a  matter  of  common  interest,  is  the 
voice  of  their  nature  proceeding  from  the  universal  Parent,  in- 
timating to  his  children  the  happiness  which  they  are  formed 
to  enjoy,  and  the  dignity  and  perfection  which  they  are  ca- 
pable of  attaining. 

Sccondli/,  The  doctrine  of  immortality,  the  grand  problem 
respecting  the  nature  of  man,  is  attended  with  the  same  diffi- 
culty as  the  being  of  God,  and  arising  from  the  same  cause — 
the  invisibility  of  the  immortal  principle.  We  are  so  much 
accustomed  to  bring  every  thing  to  the  test  of  our  bodily 
senses,  and  to  be  guided  by  their  evidence,  that  we  are  dis- 
posed to  withhold  belief  in  cases  where  they  are  incapable  of 
giving  testimony.  This,  I  believe,  is  a  chief  source  of  skep- 
ticism, both  with  respect  to  the  being  of  God  and  the  immor- 
tality of  man.  Some  think  that  all  the  operations  of  mind 
are  the  result  of  corporeal  organization,  and  hence  they  infer 
that  mind  must  perish  on  the  dissolution  of  the  organized 
fabric.  Our  knowledge,  however,  is  by  far  too  limited  to 
encourage  us  to  lay  much  stress  upon  this  inference,  even 
although  the  premises  from  which  it  is  deduced  were  correct. 
*'  I  do  not  see,"  says  Dr.  Paley,  "  that  any  impracticability 
need  be  apprehended  by  these  ;  or  that  the  change,  even  upon 
their  hypothesis,  is  far  removed  from  the  analogy  of  some 
other  operations  which  we  know  with  certainty  that  the  Deity 
is  carrying  on." 

For  any  thing  we  know,  matter,  under  all  its  modifications 

and  combinations,  is  incapable  of  intellectual  operations.     If 

the  case  should  be  otherwise,  who  can  for  a  moment  doubt 

tlie  ability  of  Hni  who  could  attach  thought  and  volition  to 

14* 


162        THE  CHARACTER  AND  STATE  OF  MAN. 

matter,  to  continue  those  faculties  under  different  organical 
modifications.  If  the  being  of  God  be  proved,  the  existence 
of  invisible  mind  is  proved ;  and  the  various  and  wonderful 
combinations  in  the  universe  may  lead  us  reasonably  to  tiiink 
that,  somewhere  in  the  scale  of  being,  matter  and  mind  shall 
be  united.  It  has  been  correctly  observed,  that  our  notions 
both  of  body  and  mind  are  merely  relative  ;  that  we  can  de- 
fine the  former  only  by  the  qualities  perceived  by  our  senses, 
and  the  latter  by  the  operations  of  which  we  are  conscious  ; 
and  therefore  the  immateriality  of  mind  is  involved  in  the 
only  conceptions  of  matter  and  mind  that  we  are  capable  of 
forming. 

The  doctrine  of  immortality,  how  wonderful  soever  it  may 
seem,  is  not  more  amazing  than  many  facts  presented  to  our 
daily  observation.  Man,  at  the  hour  of  his  birth,  undergoes 
a  mighty  change  in  the  means  of  his  subsistence  and  mode 
of  his  being  ;  and  were  he  capable  of  anticipating  that  change, 
and  of  reasoning  upon  it,  his  life  in  the  world  would  appear 
a  problem  as  difficult  as  immortality  does  at  present.  Death 
may  immediately,  in  the  natural  course  of  things,  put  us  into 
a  higher  and  more  enlarged  state  of  life,  as  our  birth  does. 
The  one,  like  the  other,  may  be  a  continuation  and  enlarge- 
ment of  powers.*  After  birth  there  is  a  continuation  and 
enlargement  of  the  same  material  fabric,  which  was  formed 
before  we  saw  the  light.  That  fabric  death  dissolves :  we 
have  no  reason,  however,  to  conclude  that  death  destroys  the 
thinking  principle.  The  vegetable  dies,  to  live  no  more ; 
but  it  cannot  be  fairly  pleaded  that  man  falls  under  the  same 
law.  The  analogy  does  not  hold  ;  for  the  vegetable  attains^ 
the  utmost  maturity  of  which  it  is  capable,  and  it  is  wholly 
destitute  of  that  which  is  the  subject  of  our  present  consid- 
eration— the  cogitative  substance,  the  capacity  of  perfection 
and  action.  Now,  it  is  about  the  continuation  of  this  princi- 
ple only  that  we  are  at  present  inquiring.  Its  material 
means  and  instruments  of  perception  and  action  may  be  de- 
stroyed ;  but,  in  a  future  state,  it  may  have  organs  of  per- 
ception and  means  of  communication,  of  which  at  present 
we  can  form  no  idea. 

Thivflly,  Organized  bodies  may  be  dissolved,  and  the  forms 
and  combinations  of  material  substances  altered.  By  these 
alterations,  the  qualities  as  well  as  the  form  of  bodies  may 
be  changed.  Our  bodies  are  in  a  state  of  unceasing  muta- 
tion ;  and    these  mutations,  in  many  instances,  greatly  in- 

*  Butler's  Analo«v. 


THE    CHARACTER    AND    STATE    OF    MAN.  163 

fiuence  our  corporeal  qualities  ;  but  the  consciousness  of 
identity  is  in  no  degree  affected  by  those  continual  changes. 
Hence,  as  well  as  by  the  only  conception  which  we  are  ca- 
pable of  forming  of  mind,  we  are  led  to  infer  that  the  think- 
ing principle  is  a  simple  and  immaterial  substance ;  and  if 
it  be  so,  the  dissolution  of  the  body  by  no  means  involves 
the  extinction  of  that  principle.  It  may  continue  to  exist, 
to  think,  and  to  will,  after  the  material  tabernacle  in  which 
it  is  at  present  lodged  shall  be  laid  in  ruins.  Indeed,  it  must 
exist  as  a  thinking  principle,  unless  it  be  annihilated  ;  for  it 
cannot  perish  by  alteration  of  form  or  dissolution  of  parts, 
and  that  it  will  be  annihilated  we  have  no  reason  to  suspect. 
From  the  will  in  Deity  to  create,  we  may  infer  the  design  to 
preserve ;  and  of  annihilation  we  have  no  instances  in  the 
material  world.  Forms  are  changed  ;  but  substances  re- 
main, merely  passing  into  new  combinations.  A  simple  and 
immaterial  substance,  however,  is  not  subject  to  a  process  of 
this  kind.  While  it  exists,  it  must  exist  with  properties  un- 
changed. The  removal  of  its  material  instruments  cannot 
alter  its  essential  qualities.  But  still,  like  every  other  cre- 
ated being,  the  continuance  of  its  existence  depends  on  the 
will  of  the  Creator. 

Fourthly,  Creation  bears  testimony  to  the  wisdom  and 
goodness  of  the  Creator.  All  his  plans  are  wisely  contrived 
and  executed  ;  and  we  see  nothing  like  a  system  of  abortion 
in  his  works.  All  orders  of  organized  beings  seem  to  reach . 
the  utmost  perfection  of  which  their  constitution  admits,  and 
to  enjoy  all  the  happiness  of  which  they  are  capable.  This 
is  equally  true  of  the  plant  and  of  the  animal ;  and  we  have 
no  cause  to  suspect  that-  man  is  an  exception  from  the  gen- 
eral rule.  He  is  endued  with  faculties  capable  of  high  pro- 
gressive improvement ;  and  we  have  no  reason  to  think  that, 
in  this  world,  he  attains  to  all  the  perfection  of  which  his  na- 
ture is  susceptible,  or  that  his  powers  of  progressive  excel- 
lence, either  moral  or  intellectual,  are  exhausted.  We  not 
unreasonably  presume,  then,  that  he  is  destined  to  survive 
the  stroke  of  death,  and  continue  his  progress  in  improve- 
ment in  a  more  advanced  stage  of  existence. 

We  do  not  here  assume  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  Deity 
to  prove  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  in  order  that,  by  the  doc- 
trine of  immortality,  we  may  obviate  objections  against  the 
divine  attributes.  No :  w^e  merely  contend,  that  in  so  far 
as  wisdom  and  goodness  appear  in  the  other  parts  of  nature, 
they  are  exercised  towards  man.  If  they  be  so  exercised  to- 
wards him,  he  must  reach  all  that  perfection,  and  enjoy  all 


164        THE  CHARACTER  AND  STATE  OF  MAN., 

that  happiness,  of  which  he  is  susceptible ;  for  this  seems  a 
law  which  pervades  the  system  of  sentient  being,  and  we 
have  no  evidence  that  man  is  an  exception  from  it.  Accord- 
ingly, he  must  make  all  that  progress  in  excellence  of  which 
his  nature  is  capable  ;  but  we  think  that  his  capacity  of  im- 
provement is  not  exhausted  in  this  world  ;  and,  therefore,  we 
look  for  another,  where  all  his  faculties  will  be  fully  expanded 
and  attain  maturity. 

Can  we  suppose  that  a  creature  endued  with  such  noble 
faculties,  and  capable  of  such  progressive  improvement,  shall, 
at  once  and  forever,  be  arrested  in  his  progress  towards  per- 
fection 1  Has  the  Deity  bestowed  upon  him  powers  capable 
of  grand  advances  in  excellence,  and  shall  he  stop  him  in 
his  glorious  career,  blast  his  hopes,  and  destroy  the  fruit  of 
all  his  toils  ?  Has  he  inspired  him  with  the  sentiment  of  im- 
mortality, merely  to  disappoint  him  ?  With  all  his  lofty  ca- 
pacities, attainments,  and  anticipations,  is  man  merely  an 
ephemeral  being  ?  Must  his  labors  and  his  hopes  perish  in 
the  dust  ?  Must  all  the  splendor  of  his  moral  and  intellec- 
tual nature  vanish,  like  the  meteor  which  gleams  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  is  extinguished  forever  ?  Are  all  the  intimations 
of  his  nature,  and  of  the  world  around  him,  mere  delusions? 
These  things  cannot  be  so.  The  phenomena  of  the  universe 
justify  no  such  suppositions.  Every  thing  conspires  to  in- 
timate a  different  result.  The  sentiments  of  humanity,  and 
the  perfections  of  God,  as  engraven  on  his  works,  bear  testi- 
mony to  the  immortality  of  man.  The  faculties  which  have 
budded  here  shall  blossom  hereafter :  the  course  of  improve- 
ment begun  in  time  shall  be  continued  in  eternity.  How  far 
his  fficulties  may  yet  expand,  to  what  degrees  of  excellence 
he  may  yet  attain,  and  with  what  dignity  he  may  yet  appear 
among  the  rational  offspring  of  the  Supreme  Intelligence,  n 
language  can  express  or  imagination  conceive.  O  my  soul, 
still  cherish,  fondly  cherish,  the  sublime  hope  of  immortality  ! 
While  the  dark  and  cheerless  infidel  looks  to  the  grave  as  ter- 
minating his  existence,  like  a  river  drunk  up  by  the  sand  of 
the  wilderness,  still  fix  thine  eye  on  the  ocean  of  eternity ! 
Remember  the  grandeur  of  thy  prospects,  the  loftiness  of 
thy  hopes,  and  study  to  think  and  act  as  it  becomes  a  being 
who  shall  yet  associate  with  the  highest  created  intelli- 
gences in  the  universe,  be  engaged  in  the  most  exalted 
employments,  and  stand  near  the  throne  of  the  mighty 
Sovereign  of  Nature ! 

On  tliis  subject,  I  have  merely  glanced  at  the  phenomena 
of  nature  and  the  sentiments  of  humanity  ;  and  I  contend  for 


THE    CHARACTER    AND    STATE    OF    MAN.  165 

the  truth  which  they  seem  to  establish.  If  the  evidence  of 
the  immortality  of  the  soul  be  not  so  clear  and  decisive  as 
some  might  desire,  it  may  be  remarked,  that  a  certain  degree 
of  obscurity  is  not  unsuitable  to  a  system  of  moral  agency, 
where  we  are  called  upon  to  act  on  probable  and  reasonable 
grounds,  without  expecting  such  a  degree  of  evidence  as  will 
irresistibly  force  conviction  ;  for  if  we  suppose  conviction  to 
be  irresistible,  and  also  that  such  conviction  irresistibly  regu- 
lates conduct,  what  is  this  but  necessity?  But  that  man 
either  is,  or  ought  to  be,  a  necessary  agent,  cannot  for  a  mo- 
ment be  admitted. 

Further,  the  degree  of  evidence  on  this  subject  is  sufficient 
to  influence  human  conduct ;  for  it  appears  probable,  at  least, 
that  man  shall  exist  in  a  future  state  of  being,  and  that  his 
condition  in  that  state  shall  be  determined  by  his  dispositions 
and  conduct  here.  AVhat,  in  such  circumstances,  is  the  dic- 
tate of  sound  wisdom  ?  It  surely  is,  to  live  as  if  we  were 
certain  of  a  future  state  of  existence ;  for  by  pursuing  this 
course  we  cannot  possibly  be  losers.  If  there  be  a  future 
state,  then,  we  shall  gain  all  the  advantages  resulting  from 
our  wise  conduct :  if  there  be  no  future  state,  we  lose  nothing. 
Nay,  we  are  gainers ;  for  the  dispositions  to  be  cultivated, 
and  the  conduct  to  be  pursued,  in  the  view  of  a  future  retri- 
bution, are  such  as  ensure  the  greatest  share  of  happiness  in 
a  present  world.  On  the  other  hand,  if  any,  because  the  evi- 
dence of  immortality  is  not  so  clear  and  cogent  as  they  could 
wish,  shall  live  in  the  total  disregard  of  a  state  of  future  retri- 
bution, then,  if  such  a  state  actually  awaits  them,  is  there  not 
great  danger  of  their  having  committed  an  irreparable  error, 
and  of  having  subjected  themselves  to  a  dreadful,  perhaps  ir- 
retrievable, loss  ? 

II.  Man  is  at  present  in  a  state  of  trial  and  discipline,  un- 
der a  system  of  moral  government ;  and  to  fit  him  for  this 
state  he  is  constituted  a  free  agent.  He  is  endued  with  in- 
tellectual and  active  powers  :  he  has  judgment  to  know  the 
meaning  of  a  commandment,  and  ability  to  obey  it.  By 
"  moral  government "  we  understand  the  establishment  and 
operation  of  laws  for  the  direction  of  rational  beings,  and  the 
enforcing  those  laws  by  rewards  and  punishments.  The 
subject  of  such  a  government  must  be  a  free  agent. 

1.  By  the  liberty  of  a  moral  agent  we  understand  a  power 
over  the  motives  which  affect  the  determinations  of  his  own 
will ;  and  we  call  man  a  free  agent  in  the  same  way,  and 
with  the  same  limitations,  as  we  pronounce  him  a  rational 
being.     Every  man  has  a  conviction  that  he  is  free^  and  acta 


166  THE    CHARACTER    AND    STATE    OF    MAN. 

towards  others  in  the  persuasion  that  they  also  are  free.  Our 
deliberations,  purposes  and  promises,  all  suppose  liberty  in 
ourselves ;  and  our  advices,  exhortations  and  commands,  sup- 
pose it  m  others.  That  man  is  a  free  agent  appears  to  me 
indubitable.  On  this  subject  philosophers  may  talk,  but  con- 
sciousness and  experience  decide.  I  am  conscious  of  free- 
dom. I  can  weigh  motives.  I  can  judge  which  are  most 
consonant  to  sound  reason  and  to  ray  best  interest ;  and  yet 
can  decline  regulating  my  conduct  by  them.  I  can  choose 
and  refuse.  I  can  act  agreeably  to  the  convictions  of  my 
understanding,  or  I  can  pursue  a  different  course.  Advice 
and  exhortation  may  influence  conduct,  but  they  do  not  im- 
pair liberty.  The  same  is  the  case  with  motives ;  they  may 
prompt  to  action,  but  they  do  not  act.  A  necessary  agent, 
whose  actions  are  as  irresistibly  determined  by  desires  or 
motives  as  a  stone  in  falling  to  the  ground  is  by  the  great 
law  of  gravitation,  cannot  be  the  subject  of  moral  gov- 
ernment. He  is  incapable  of  virtue  or  vice,  and  unfit  for 
reward  or  punishment. 

"  Not  free,  what  proof  pould  they  have  given  sincere 
Of  true  allegiance,  constant  faith,  or  love, 
Where  only  what  they  needs  must  do  appeared, 
Not  what  they  would  ?     What  praise  could  they  receive  1 
What  pleasure  I,  from  such  obedience  paid, 
When  will  and  reason  (reason  also  is  choice), 
Useless  and  vain,  of  freedom  both  despoiled, 
Made  passive  both,  had  served  necessity, 
Not  me  ?  " 

Necessary  agency  and  moral  government  are  altogether  in- 
compatible. The  one  of  them  naturally  excludes  the  other. 
Every  encroachment  on  free  agency  implies  a  corresponding 
limitation  of  moral  government.  A  necessary  agent  can 
neither  be  praised  nor  blamed.  Resembling  a  magnet  trav- 
ersing on  its  pivot,  and  turning  towards  the  polar  points,  his 
will  has  no  part  in  the  determination  of  his  actions.  Such  a 
being  cannot,  any  more  than  the  magnet,  be  the  subject  of 
reward  or  punishment.  The  determination  of  the  will  is  the 
first  part  of  the  action,  on  which  alone  its  moral  value  de- 
pends. Unless  man  be  a  free  agent,  there  can  be  no  more 
moral  worth  in  any  part  of  his  conduct  than  in  the  beautiful 
coloring  of  a  fly's  wing,  in  the  melody  of  a  thrush's  note,  or 
in  the  neat  construction  of  a  chaffinch's  nest.  Moral  govern- 
ment implies  free  agency. 

2.  Man  is  not  only  a  free  agent,  but  also  an  accountable 
creature.     He  is  the  subject  of  a  moral  government. 

Some  ancient  philosophers,  although  they  professed  to  bos. 


THE    CHARACTER    AND    STATE    OF    MAN;  167 

lieve  in  the  being  of  God,  yel,  taught  that  he  gave  himself  no 
concern  whatever  about  the  affairs  of  this  lower  world.  They 
represented  him  as  enjoying  a  state  of  listless  tranquillity  and 
indolent  repose  above  the  clouds ;  inattentive  to  the  actions, 
and  careless  of  the  destiny,  of  men.  This  monstrous  doc- 
trine was  a  proper  sequel  to  the  irrational  creed,  that  the 
world  had  been  formed,  not  by  the  power  and  wisdom  of 
Deity,  but  by  a  fortuitous  concourse  of  atoms.  In  order  to 
the  belief  that  God  took  no  notice  of  the  affairs  of  the  world, 
it  was  necessary  first  to  exclude  him  from  any  concern  in  its 
formation  ;  tor  if  they  had  admitted  that  all  things  were  made 
by  him,  it  would  not  have  been  easy  to  have  proved  that  he 
had  divested  himself  of  all  regard  to  the  works  of  his  hand, 
and,  like  an  unnatural  parent,  had  ceased  to  think  of  them, 
to  love,  and  to  protect  them.  But  sound  reason,  contempla- 
ting all  the  phenomena,  rejects  as  absurdities  the  dogmas  of 
the  Epicurean  school,  and  pronounces  that  the  Deity  exer- 
cises not  only  a  providential  care  over  all  his  works,  but  also 
a  moral  government  over  man. 

The  providential  care  of  the  Almighty  is  evident  in  the 
preservation  of  the  established  order  of  things,  so  that  an  ad- 
equate provision  is  made  for  supplying  the  wants,  and  admin- 
istering to  the  enjoyments,  of  sentient  beings.  He  more  par- 
ticularly exercises  the  right  of  an  equitable  sovereign  over 
his  rational  offspring.  His  will  is  to  them  a  law,  and  this 
law  harmonizes  with  the  system  of  nature  in  proclaiming 
the  benevolence  of  Deity,  by  promoting  the  happiness  of  man. 
The  law  is  not  the  arbitrary  and  capricious  volition  of  an 
Omnipotent  Ruler.  It  emanates  from  wisdom  and  benigni- 
ty, and  is  directed  towards  the  general  good,  in  a  consist- 
ency with  all  the  attributes  of  tlie  Creator.  The  great  prin- 
ciple of  the  law  is  utility  ;  or,  in  other  words,  what  the  Deity, 
in  his  boundless  wisdom,  saw  would  be  best,  not  merely  for 
one  or  a  few  uidividuals,  but  for  all ;  best  for  all,  if  all  were 
to  obey  it. 

Tlie  Ir.w  is  intimated  to  us  by  reason  and  the  moral  f\iculty, 
and  the  course  of  nature  countenances  and  supports  it.  Rea- 
son, pondering  all  tlie  phenomena,  instructs  us  to  revere  the 
Deity  ;  to  exercise  justice,  candor  and  mercy  towards  our 
fellow-men ;  and  to  cherish  temperance,  fortitude,  and  dili- 
gence in  our  several  avocations.  But  for  the  discovery  of  the 
great  outlines  of  the  will  of  God  and  duty  of  man,  w^e  are  not 
left  to  tJA-  exercise  of  reason  alone.  Conscience,  or  the 
moral  iaoakv,  comes  in  to  the  aid  of  reason;  and,  by  reason 
and  conscience,  all  men  perceive  the  great  features  of  moral 


1G8        THE  CHARACTER  AND  STATE  OF  MAN. 

law.*  Accordingly,  there  are  certain  dispositions  and  actions 
which  have  been  always  applauded  or  commended,  and  others 
which,  as  generally,  have  been  the  subjects  of  censure  or  de- 
testation. All  men  approve  of  piety,  benevolence,  integrity, 
veracity,  temperance,  fortitude,  industry ;  all  men  disapprove 
of  contrary  dispositions  and  conduct.  Reason  and  the  moral 
faculty  may  be  perverted.  This  perversion,  however,  results 
from  the  abuse  of  free  agency  ;  and  for  it  mankind  have 
themselves  to  blame.  Man  is  a  free  agent;  but  his  body,  his 
mind,  and  nature  around  him,  are  so  constituted,  that  if  he 
exercise  his  freedom  in  an  irregular  and  capricious  manner, 
in  defiance  of  the  dictates  of  reason  and  conscience,  he  must 
suffer  a  corresponding  loss  of  happiness,  or  degree  of  pain. 

3.  Man,  even  in  his  present  state,  is  happy  or  unhappy, 
rewarded  or  punished,  as  he  obeys  or  disobeys  the  law.  This 
is  a  demonstration  of  a  moral  government. 

That  the  virtuous  person,  or  he  who  performs  his  duty  by 
obeying  the  will  of  God,  enjoys  much  happiness;  and  that 
the  vicious  person,  or  he  who  lives  in  the  habitual  violation 
of  the  law  intimated  to  him  by  reason  and  conscience,  is  sub- 
ject to  much  infelicity,  are  truths  so  obvious,  that  they  have 
not  escaped  observation  in  any  age.  All  men,  indeed,  suf- 
fer a  greater  or  less  degree  of  uneasiness  and  pain  ;  but  the 
virtuous  man  experiences  far  less  than  the  vicious.  The  first 
tastes  all  those  joys  which  the  moral  constitution  of  his  nature 
imparts :  the  last  not  only  loses  those  joys,  but  suffers  the 
miseries  flowing  from  a  disapproving  mind. 

There  are  sources  of  pleasure  and  pain  common  to  us  with 
the  inferior  animals,  and  consequently  independent  on  :noral 
conduct.  Active  exertion,  animal  gratification,  worldly  suc- 
cess, and  the  contemplation  of  some  kinds  of  excellence, 
yield  enjoyment  both  to  good  and  bad  men.  Although  the 
Deity  has  demonstrated  his  goodness  by  multiplying  the 
sources  of  felicity,  yet  the  purest  and  most  constant  stream 
flows  into  the  bosom  of  the  virtuous  person.  He  who  obeys 
the  Vv'ill  of  God  has  the  fairest  prospect  of  enjoying  bodily 
health.  If  two  persons,  with  constitutions  equally  sound, 
enter  together  on  the  career  of  life,  and  if  one  of  them  pur- 
sue a  moral  and  the  other  an  immoral  course,  it  will  appear, 
at  no  distant  period,  that  moral  conduct  has  the  advantage  in 
point  of  bodily  health.  The  virtuous  man  also  enjoys  most 
peace  of  mind ;  and  this  peace  of  mind  contributes,  in  no 
small  degree,  to  health  of  body. 

*  By  reason  T  understand  the  faculty  by  which  we  judj^c  between  truth  and 
error,  and  combine  means  for  the  attainment  of  ends  ;  by  conscience,  or  tli« 
moral  faculty,  lliat  by  which  we  distinguish  between  right  and  wrong. 


THE    CHARACTER    AND    STATE    OF    MAN.  169 

We  are  so  constituted  that  reason  and  conscience  not  only 
indicate  tlie  will  of  God  and  the  path  of  duty,  but  encourage 
and  applaud  us  when  we  follow  their  direction,  and  disap- 
prove and  censure  us  when  we  pursue  a  contrary  course. 
The  good  man,  feeling  the  favor  of  God  in  the  approbation 
of  his  own  mind,  looks  forward  with  an  humble  and  cheerful 
confidence  to  the  future.  There  is  no  load  on  his  breast, 
and  he  dreads  no  evil.  But  the  bad  man  is  often  uneasy  : 
he  is  haunted  by  remorse,  and  depressed  and  agitated  by 
gloomy  and  painful  anticipations.  How  soothing  are  the  ac- 
cents of  an  approving  mind!  What 'a  sweet  serenity,  what 
a  delightful  complacency  do  they  diffuse  over  the  soul !  On 
the  other  hand,  the  condemnfition  of  reason  and  conscience 
is  bitter  as  gall  and  wormwood.  Under  their  censure  and 
reproof  we  feel  restless,  mortified,  and  unhappy  ;  and  against 
the  chidings  of  those  internal  monitors  no  bad  man  can  at  all 
times  fortify  himself.  They  are  perpetual  spies  on  his 
thoughts  and  actions,  and  their  bitter  reproaches  will  be  as 
thorns  in  his  pillow.  No  external  circumstances  can  rob  the 
good  man  of  the  exalted  enjoyment  flowing  from  the  appro- 
bation of  his  own  mind. 

Obedience  to  the  will  of  God  is  the  surest  way  to  obtain  a 
competent  portion  of  the  good  things  of  the  world;  for  he 
who  regulates  his  conduct  by  the  law,  is  temperate  and  indus- 
trious, diligent  in  gaining  and  moderate  in  spending,  and 
thus  likely  to  enjoy  a  competency,  I  see  no  superstition  in 
believing  that  the  righteous  Governor  of  the  Universe,  looking 
down  with  an  eye  of  complacency  on  his  dutiful  children,  may 
graciously  crown  their  exertions  with  much  success. 

The  good  person  also  enjoys  the  esteem  and  affection  of 
his  fellow-men.  Look  at  two  individuals  :  the  one  is  pious, 
upright,  humane,  temperate,  and  industrious;  the  other  is 
irreligious,  unjust,  malignant,  treacherous,  indolent,  and  de- 
bauched. Which  of  these  two  would  you  choose  for  your 
friend  ?  To  which  of  them  would  you  commit  a  trust  ?  All 
men  instantly,  and  with  one  voice,  give  the  preference  to  the 
virtuous  one.  They  esteem  him  ;  they  love  him  ;  they  wish 
him  well.  But  the  vicious  person  is  the  object  of  their  con- 
tempt or  detestation.  Now,  health  of  body,  peace  of  mind, 
a  competency  of  the  good  things  of  the  world,  and  the  es- 
teem of  mankind,  are  rewards  which  the  righteous  Sove- 
reign, in  the  ordinary  course  of  his  government,  bestows  upon 
his  obedient  subjects,  A  diseased  body,  an  unhappy  mind, 
poverty,  and  contempt,  are  punishments  inflicted  on  the  dis- 
obedient. It  is  obvious  that  the  natural  course  of  thingK 
15 


170       THE  CHARACTER  AND  STATE  OF  MAN. 

tends  to  the  production  of  these  effects ;  and  if  it  be  so,  we 
are  entitled  to  affirm,  that  the  system  of  nature  gives  a  sanc- 
tion to  the  laws  of  the  sovereign,  and  that  a  moral  govern- 
ment is  now  carrying  on.  The  instances  in  which  such 
effects  are  not  produced  are  exceedingly  rare;  and  at  these 
exceptions  we  need  neither  be  surprised  nor  offended,  in 
a  vast  scheme  of  free  agency  going  on  under  the  operation 
of  general  laws.  Such  exceptions  are  perfectly  compatible 
with  a  state  of  trial  and  discipline,  in  which  all  our  powers 
of  body  and  mind  must  be  improved  and  strengthened  by 
exercise. 

4.  Exercise  and  trial  are  powerful  means  of  improvement 
and  sources  of  happiness;  and  a  future  retribution  awaits  us. 

Man,  as  we  have  already  seen,  is  a  moral  agent ;  and^ 
generally  speaking,  he  is  happy  or  unhappy,  as  he  obeys  or 
disobeys  the  law  intimated  to  him  by  reason  and  conscience. 
He  is,  at  present,  in  a  state  of  probation  and  discipline,  under 
the  eye  of  his  Sovereign  and  Judge ;  and  his  improvement  is 
carried  on,  and  his  happiness  promoted  by  exercise  and  trial. 
We  come  into  the  world  feeble  in  body  and  in  mind,  but 
with  the  seeds  of  improvement  in  both  ;  and  these  seeds  grow 
according  to  tlie  cultivation  they  receive  from  exercise.  The 
body  grovis  in  stature  and  in  strength,  and  the  mind  gradu- 
ally expands.  But  exercise  is  requisite  to  the  development 
both  of  our  corporeal  and  mental  capacities.  In  the  course 
of  years,  indeed,  the  body  grows ;  but  without  exercise  it  is 
feeble  and  inactive ;  and  the  mind,  wholly  undisciplined,  re- 
mains in  a  weak  and  infantile  state.  That  exercise  which 
is  requisite,  in  order  to  bodily  health  and  vigor,  and  to  the 
evolution  of  our  intellectual  and  moral  powers,  is  not  only  the 
chief  means  of  our  improvement,  but  also  the  main  source 
of  our  happiness.  Without  exercise  of  body  and  of  mind 
there  can  be  no  enjoyment. 

The  constitution  of  nature  and  the  government  of  the  Cre- 
ator are  such  as  to  call  forth  our  bodily  exertions,  and  to  solicit 
and  encourage  the  exercise  of  our  intellectual  and  moral  ca- 
pacities. We  are  placed  in  circumstances  calculated  to 
awaken  our  faculties,  to  rouse  activity,  and  to  stimulate  ex- 
ertion. And  man,  when  his  powers  are  fully  brought  into  ac- 
tion, can  both  do  and  suffer  beyond  what  he  would  have  pre- 
viously imagined.  He  can  pass  triumphantly  through  scenes 
which,  in  anticipation,  he  would  have  thought  overwhelming. 
Under  these  trials,  if  he  act  wisely,  he  makes  the  most  rapid 
progress  in  improvement,  and  the  retrospect  yields  him  the 
most  exalted  enjoyment. 


EVIL    IN    THE    WORLD.  171 

In  all  our  conceptions,  exertion  is  connected  with  success 
and  renown.  A  triumph  without  an  enemy  combated  and  a 
victory  won — a  prize  where  no  course  is  marked  out,  and  no 
competitor  starts  with  us  in  the  race — are  notions  which  do 
not  find  a  ready  admission  into  our  minds.  Such  is  our  con- 
stitution, that,  according  to  our  usual  train  of  thinking,  where 
there  is  no  exertion  there  can  be  neither  honor  nor  reward. 
Progress  in  moral  and  intellectual  excellence  is  our  duty, 
our  honor,  and  our  interest.  To  be  stationary  or  retrograde 
is  disgraceful.  In  the  progress  of  improvement,  the  present 
life  soon  comes  to  a  close ;  but  we  are  immortal  beings,  and 
we  have  reason  to  think  that  there  is  an  intimate  connect  on 
between  the  present  and  the  future.  The  whole  of  the  Di- 
vine government,  as  exhibited  in  the  course  of  nature,  mani- 
fests a  regard  to  piety,  integrity,  and  sobriety  ;  and  an  oppo- 
sition to  vice.  The  probability  certainly  is,  that  the  great 
scheme,  which  is  evidently  going  on  at  present,  will  be  con- 
tinued in  a  future  state  of  being  ;  and  that  they  who  have 
done  their  duty  here,  by  employing  their  faculties  and  the 
talents  intrusted  to  their  care  in  conformity  to  the  will  of  the 
Creator,  as  intimated  in  his  works,  and  more  clearly  revealed 
in  the  Scriptures,  and  who  have  passed  through  their  various 
trials  with  improvement,  will,  after  death,  enter  on  a  nobler 
stage  of  existence,  where  they  will  still  pursue  the  course  of 
excellence ;  while  they  who  have  disregarded  the  intimations 
©f  reason  and  conscience,  will  suffer  a  corresponding  loss. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

EVIL    IN    THE    WORLD. 

From  our  inquiries  in  the  foregoing  part  of  this  treatise,  it 
appears  that  there  is  a  Being  all-powerful,  wise,  and  good, 
by  whom  every  thing  exists.  The  existence  of  this  Being  is 
demonstrated  by  every  part  of  the  universe  which  we  are 
capable  of  observing  ;  for,  throughout  the  immense  field  that 
lies  within  the  limits  of  the  telescope  on  the  one  hand,  and 
of  the  microscope  on  the  other,  we  every  where  meet  with 
manifestations  of  contrivance,  with  mutual  adaptations,  and 
reciprocal  dependencies  ;  and  by  the  constitution  of  our  na- 
ture we  are  induced  and  constrained  to  believe  in  the  exist-" 
ence  of  a  designing  and  contriving  mind,  an  essence  in  which 
perceptions  meet,  and  from  which  volitions  flow.     It  is  ob- 


172  EVIL    IN    THE    V/ORLD. 

vious,  that  to  this  contriving  mind  we  must  attribute  power, 
wisdom,  and  goodness,  in  the  degree  at  least  necessary  for 
constructing  and  carrying  on  the  great  system  of  the  universe; 
and  we  have  seen  that  the  manifestation  of  those  perfections 
pervades  the  whole  scheme  of  nature. 

But  do  all  appearances  in  the  natural  and  moral  world  ex- 
actly correspond  with  this  representation?  Does  every  thing 
throughout  the  universe  obviously  harmonize  with  the  belief 
of  a  God  all-powerful,  wise,  and  good  ?  Are  there  no  diffi- 
culties, no  apparent  inconsistencies,  either  in  the  natural  or 
moral  world  ?  To  such  inquiries  we  may  answer  in  general, 
that,  in  a  system  which  we  do  not  fully  understand,  it  were 
unreasonable  to  expect  that  in  every  instance  we  should  be 
able  to  give  an  explanation  admitting  of  no  doubt  and  of 
no  reply. 

From  the  phenomena  of  nature  it  clearly  appears  that  the 
Deity  is  immeasurably  exalted  above  us.  We  inhabit  a  small 
province  in  his  boundless  empire,  forming  perhaps  a  link  in 
a  mighty  chain  of  intelligent  being  under  him,  and  ought  not 
to  consider  ourselves  as  a  detached  fragment  of  his  works, 
but  as  a  harmonious  part  of  one  great  whole.  His  plan  no 
doubt  embraces  the  whole  destiny  of  our  race,  from  the  be- 
ginning to  the  end  of  the  world.  The  administration  of  such 
a  scheme  is  too  comprehensive  to  be  understood  by  us  in  all 
its  extent ;  and  certain  and  perfect  knowledge  is  by  no  means 
necessary  to  a  moral  agent.  It  is  enough  if  we  have  such 
information  as  shall  lay  a  rational  foundation  for  the  regula- 
tion of  our  conduct,  for  encouraging  our  hopes,  awakening 
our  ambition,  and  quickening  our  diligence.  There  is  nothing 
unreasonable  in  supposing  that  there  are  higher  created  in- 
telligences than  we  :  they  no  doubt  know  more  than  we  do; 
but  it  is  likely  that  their  knowledge  of  the  universe  and  of 
the  divine  government  is  by  no  nierins  perfect,  and  that  the 
Author  of  the  system  is  the  only  being  who  fully  compre- 
hends every  part  of  it. 

Difficulties  which  we  are  unable  fully  to  solve  may  occur; 
but  these  difficulties,  it  is  reasonable  to  think,  arise  solely 
from  our  ignorance  and  incapacity,  and  not  from  any  imper- 
fection in  the  works  or  government  of  God.  Accordingly, 
the  difficulties  will  appear  more  numerous  or  more  formida- 
ble to  some  persons  than  to  others.  They  will  vanish  in  pro- 
portion as  the  light  of  knowledge  increases,  in  the  same  way 
that  darkness  disappears  before  the  rising  sun.  Beings  of  a 
higher  order,  of  greater  capacity,  and  more  extensive  knowl- 
edge than  man,  probably  meet  with  fewer  difficulties  in  tne 


EVILS    OF    IMPERFECTION.  173 

works  and  government  of  God  than  we  do,  and  perhaps  not 
in  the  same  instances.  To  a  well-informed  person,  of  a 
sound  understanding,  many  things  may  appear  plain  and  or- 
derly, that  seem  dark  and  inconsistent  to  one  of  less  knowl- 
edge and  sagacity.  In  the  progress  of  knowledge,  those 
things  which  seem  inexplicable  to  one  generation  may  be 
well  understood  by  another.  We  know  more  than  they  of 
past  ages  did ;  but  still  there  are  many  things  of  which  we 
are  ignorant,  and  many  things,  perhaps,  of  which  man  wiH 
always  remain  ignorant.  Of  the  cause  of  gravitation  we 
know  nothing.  Why  the  magnet  attracts  iron,  and,  when  al- 
lowed to  move  freely,  turns  itself  towards  the  polar  points, 
and  why  poles  of  the  same  name  repel  each  other,  we  do  not 
understand.  Many  things  relating  to  electricity  have  hither- 
to escaped  our  research,  and  the  operations  of  this  substance 
on  the  great  scale  of  nature  we  can  neither  fully  estimate  nor 
explain.  Our  knowledge  of  the  works  of  the  Creator  is  lim- 
ited and  partial,  and  that  of  his  ways  is  not  more  perfect. 

Even  in  these  circumstances,  however,  we  hold  it  to  be  a 
rational  and  edifying  exercise  to  inquire  into  the  attributes  of 
Deity  as  manifested  in  his  w^orks  and  government ;  but  our 
investigations  ought  to  be  conducted  with  reverence,  and  un- 
der a  sense  of  the  immeasurable  distance  between  God  and 
man.  Many  of  the  objections  which  have  been  urged  against 
the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  Creator  we  can  fully  and 
fairly  answer,  and  of  others  we  can  give  a  probable  solution : 
but  wisdom  and  goodness  appear  in  so  many  instances,  that 
it  is  not  unreasonable  to  believe  in  their  existence  even  when 
we  are  unable  to  trace  them.  What  we  purpose  to  say  fur- 
ther on  this  subject  will  be  arranged  under  the  heads  of  Evils 
of  Imperfection,  Moral  Evil,  and  Natural  Evil.  The  first  of 
these  will  not  detain  us  long  ;  but  on  the  two  last  we  intend 
to  dwell  at  greater  length. 

I.    EVILS    OF    IMPERFECTION. 

Why  was  not  man  made  so  tall  as  to  be  capable  of  wading 
the  ocean  ?  Why  has  he  not  the  strength  of  the  elephant, 
and  the  piercing  eye  of  the  eagle  ?  Why  are  not  his  intel- 
lectual faculties  more  powerful,  so  that  his  perceptions  of 
truth  might  be  more  clear,  and  his  conduct  more  regular? 
That  the  objections  involved  in  such  questions  are  absurd, 
can,  I  think,  be  plainly  shown.  This  class  of  objections,  in 
reality,  precludes  all  gradation  of  being,  for  they  may  be 
urged  against  the  existence  of  every  creature.  Why  was 
15* 


174 


EVILS    OF    IMPERFECTION. 


not  every  clod  of  earth  made  a  sentient  being?  Why  was 
not  every  sentient  being  endued  with  reason  1  Why  was  not 
every  rational  nature  adorned  with  all  the  attributes  of  Deity  ? 
Such  is  the  extent  of  the  objection,  and  its  extent  proves  its 
absurdity ;  for  absurd  must  every  objection  be  which  still 
remains  in  full  force,  what  changes  soever  we  suppose  intro- 
duced in  consistency  with  the  notion  of  a  Creator  and  crea- 
tures, of  a  Sovereign  and  subjects. 

If  it  be  alleged  that  this  is  straining  the  objection,  which 
is  meant  to  be  applied  to  beings  in  certain  circumstances 
only,  then  let  the  objector  give  a  clear  and  consistent  ac- 
count of  these  circumstances.  Let  him  determine  the  point 
beneath  which  sentient  existence  ought  never  to  descend. 
Does  he  fix  it  at  reason?  Man  possesses  that  faculty,  and  to 
his  nature  on  that  point  no  objection  can  be  made.  A  grada- 
tion of  creatures  is  unquestionably  consistent  with  wisdom 
and  goodness  in  the  Deity ;  for,  if  a  good  objection  lies 
against  creatures  occupying  any  one  place  in  the  scale,  a 
similar  objection  may  be  urged  against  those  occupying  any 
other  place  in  it.  Is  the  capacity  of  happiness  reckoned  es- 
sential to  sentient  existence?  It  is  evident  that  animals, 
under  the  guidance  of  instinct  merely,  are  susceptible  of 
much  enjoyment.  And  do  not  irrational  creatures,  while  en- 
joying much  happiness  themselves,  contribute  to  the  comfort 
and  felicity  of  rational  beings?  This,  I  apprehend,  can- 
not be  denied.  Unorganized  matter  nourishes  vegetables. 
Vegetables  feed  many  sentient  beings.  Vegetables  and  ir- 
rational animals  support  rational  natures.  In  the  gradation, 
the  inferior  ministers  to  the  sustenance,  improvement,  or  hap- 
piness of  the  superior  parts.  This  process  reaches  as  far  as 
our  observation  extends.  While  the  inferior  are  thus  related 
to  the  superior  parts  in  the  scale,  every  class  of  sentient  be- 
ings enjoys  happiness  in  its  own  sphere. 

The  question  is  not  whether  we  can  conceive  man  to  have 
been  made  a  nobler  being  than  he  is.  I  perceive  nothing 
unreasonable  in  believing  that,  in  the  multitude  of  worlds 
with  which  the  universe  is  replenished,  there  are  many  crea- 
tures vastly  superior  to  the  human  race.  But  the  inquiry  is, 
whether  the  constitution  and  circumstances  of  man,  such  as 
they  are,  be  compatible  with  the  existence  of  an  all-power- 
ful, wise,  and  good  Being,  the  Creator  and  Governor  of  the 
universe.  The  discussion  of  this  subject  leads  to  the  con- 
sideration of  moral  and  natural  evil,  from  which  the  most 
important  difficulties  respecting  the  perfections  and  govern- 
ment of  God   arise.     Before  entering  upon  these  topics,  we 


EVILS    OF    IMPERFECTION.  175 

shall  here  state  some  facts  or  principles,  which,  although  they 
have  been  already  mentioned  more  or  less  diffusely,  may  be 
here  repeated,  in  order  that  they  may  be  more  distinctly  re- 
membered. 

1.  Man  is  a  free  agent.  If  the  Deity  be  possessed  of  all 
moral  perfections,  it  must  be  agreeable  to  his  nature  to  exer- 
cise a  moral  government.  But  the  subjects  of  a  moral  gov- 
ernment must  be  free  agents ;  for  a  necessary  agent  is  a  mere 
machine,  and  is  as  unfit  for  being  the  subject  of  a  moral 
government  as  a  steam-engine  or  a  wind-mill.  Now,  if  it  be 
consistent  with  wisdom  and  goodness  to  create  free  agents, 
and  to  place  them  under  a  moral  government,  then  the  con- 
sequences of  free  agency  and  moral  government  cannot  be 
pleaded  as  objections  against  those  attributes. 

2.  We  are  so  constituted  that  our  improvement  and  happi- 
ness are  carried  on  and  promoted  by  exercise,  discipline,  and 
trial.  On  this  fact,  however,  I  shall  not  at  present  dwell; 
for  it  has  been  already  stated,  and  will  be  further  illustrated 
in  a  subsequent  part  of  the  treatise. 

These  are  unquestionably  two  great  principles  in  the  hu- 
man constitution,  and  unless  it  can  be  shown  that  they  are 
inconsistent  with  wisdom  and  goodness  in  the  Deity,  all 
objections  against  those  attributes  must  be  dissipated  like 
smoke  before  the  wind.  The  first  of  those  principles  ac- 
counts for  the  moral  evil  in  the  world ;  and  the  second  throws 
light  on  the  natural  evils  to  which  we  are  exposed,  in  cases 
which  remain  unexplained  by  the  first. 

In  the  course  of  this  discussion,  it  must  still  be  remem- 
bered that  we  are  not  to  conceive  of  the  Deity  as  a  being  of 
blind  and  indiscriminating  benevolence,  but  as  possessing  all 
possible  excellencies  in  the  highest  degree,  and  in  a  state  of 
harmonious  combination.  He  is  not  good  only,  but  wise,  and 
just,  and  faithful,  and  holy  ;  and  all  those  attributes  act  con- 
sistently with  each  other.  We  are  also  to  remember  that  the 
evils  in  the  world  are  comparatively  rare  and  partial  occur- 
rences, spread  over  a  large  surface  ;  sufficient  to  stimulate 
activity  and  encourage  virtue,  but,  unless  prodigiously  in- 
creased by  the  abuse  of  free  agency,  are  by  no  means  so  great 
or  so  numerous  as  to  overwhelm  our  faculties  or  destroy  our 
happiness.  True,  indeed,  were  we  to  collect  all  the  variety 
of  wickedness,  suffering,  and  distress,  from  every  period  of 
time,  and  from  every  place  in  the  world,  and  to  present  it  in 
one  unmingled  assemblage,  it  would  exhibit  a  fearful  aggre- 
gate. But  this  aggregate  would  not  be  a  picture  of  human 
life.     It  would  not  be  a  fair  picture  of  the  earth,  to  heap  to- 


176  MORAL    EVIL. 

gether  all  the  volcanoes,  naked  rocks,  sandy  deserts,  thorns, 
and  briers,  which  occur  on  its  surface.  It  would  not  be  a  fair 
representation  of  the  animal  world,  to  crowd  together  into 
one  horrid  spot  all  the  serpents,  and  scorpions,  and  lions,  and 
tigers  of  the  earth.  This  were  to  collect  in  one  point,  and 
without  mixture,  what  in  nature  is  sprCvad  over  a  vast  surface, 
and  interspersed  with  large  scenes  of  beauty,  and  copious 
sources  of  enjoyment.  It  were  to  represent  what  is  uncom- 
mon and  extraordinary,  as  if  it  were  the  universal  state  of 
the  earth,  and  the  common  lot  of  man.  It  were  like  de- 
scribing the  sun  as  a  mass  of  darkness,  because  black  spots 
are  at  times  discernible  on  its  disk. 

The  evils  that  are  in  the  world,  in  many  instances,  serve 
as  the  seasonings  of  life.  They  not  only  give  a  relish  to  its 
enjoyments,  but  they  also  promote  the  development  of  our 
faculties  and  the  improvement  of  our  virtues.  And  it  is 
evident  that,  amidst  all  the  vicissitudes  of  this  chequered 
scene,  man  is  more  commonly  in  health  than  in  sickness ;  his 
countenance  is  much  more  frequently  enlightened  by  joy 
than  clouded  by  sorrow. 

II.     MORAL    EVIL. 

The  human  body  is  a  noble  structure,  indicating  consume 
mate  wisdom  and  great  goodness  in  the  Architect ;  and  it  is 
a  suitable  temple  for  the  residence  of  the  mind.  It  is  a  ma^ 
terial  febric,  and  consequently  subject  to  the  laws  by  which 
the  material  world  is  governed. 

The  mind,  whether  we  contemplate  it  in  a  moral  or  intel- 
lectual point  of  view,  is  endued  with  high  capacities.  The 
understanding  is  susceptible  of  great  improvement,  and  capa- 
ble of  splendid  attainments.  Complaints,  however,  against 
the  moral  constitution  of  our  nature  and  the  evils  thence  re- 
sulting, have  been  loud,  by  those  who  v/ish  to  devolve  upon 
the  Author  of  our  being  the  blame  of  our  own  misconduct. 
But,  whatever  may  be  the  cavils  of  the  querimonious  sophist, 
we  are  not  cast  as  a  wreck  upon  the  moral  ocean,  without  a 
pilot  or  a  helm.  Our  Creator  has  graciously  bestowed  upon 
us  a  moral  nature.  He  has  with  his  own  finger  written  the 
law  of  virtue  upon  our  heart,  and  which  the  apostasy  has  not 
wholly  effaced.  Reason  and  conscience  point  out  the  path 
of  duty  and  happiness ;  and  they  applaud  and  encourage  us 
when  we  do  well,  and  disapprove  and  censure  us  when  we 
disobey  their  intimations.  When  we  pursue  an  upright 
course,  we  feel   complacency   and   elevation  of  soul   arising 


MOUAL    EVIL.  177 

from  the  approbation  of  our  own  mind,  V\^hen  conscience 
condemns  us,  we  stand  degraded  in  our  own  estimation. 

All  men  commend  the  good  and  the  virtuous.  A  pious, 
benevolent,  equitable,  industrious,  temperate,  and  prudent 
person  meets  with  general  approbation,  while  one  of  a  con- 
trary character  is  as  generally  blamed.  Besides,  the  consti- 
tution of  the  natural  world  supports  our  moral  perceptions 
and  judgments,  tending  to  confer  bodily  health  and  a  com- 
petency of  the  good  things  of  life  upon  the  virtuous  man ; 
while,  from  the  moral  constitution  of  our  nature,  he  also  en- 
joys peace  of  mind,  and  the  respect  and  good-will  of  his  fel- 
low men.  It  is  a  law  in  the  natural  world  that  bodies  tend 
towards  the  centre.  It  is,  in  like  manner,  a  law  in  the  moral 
world  that  virtue  promotes  happiness,  and  that  vice  is  the 
parent  of  misery.  If  we  were  capable  of  taking  a  full  and 
comprehensive  survey  of  the  government  of  the  v/orld,  in  all 
its  bearings  and  relations,  we  would  perceive  that  virtue  as 
certainly  tends  to  our  welfare  as  the  fruits  of  the  earth  to 
our  physical  comfort.  According,  then,  to  the  moral  and 
natural  system  of  the  world,  the  path  of  virtue  is  the  road  to 
happiness :  the  way  of  vice,  how  gay  soever  may  be  its  dec- 
orations, conducts  to  the  region  of  sorrow. 

In  opposition  to  what  has  now  been  said,  it  may  be  alleged 
that  men  differ  in  their  moral  perceptions  and  estimates  ;  that 
what  one  people  reckons  blameless  or  praiseworthy,  is  con- 
demned by  another;  and  that  the  inhabitants  of  one  country 
esteem  honorable  what,  in  a  different  nation,  is  thought  de- 
grading ;  that  the  Chinese  expose  their  infants,  and  Indians 
knock  their  aged  parents  on  the  head,  or  leave  them  to  starve 
in  the  wilderness;  that  a  Georgian  boasts  of  the  number 
of  public  executioners  that  have  besn  in  his  family,  while, 
in  Iceland,  no  person  can  be  found  to  inflict  a  capital  pun- 
ishment. 

To  this  we  reply,  that  our  moral  powers,  as  well  as  our 
other  ficulties,  may  be  misled  and  perverted.  They  are 
fitted  to  each  other,  and  are  equally  susceptible  of  improve- 
ment or  deterioration.  Educntion,  fashion,  and  habit,  have 
a  vast  influence  on  our  intellectual  operations,  and  exercise 
a  powerful  sway  over  our  moral  judgments.  But  this  does 
not  disprove  the  moral  constitution  of  man,  nor  establish  any 
orio-inil  difference  of  moral  sentiment  among  different  fami- 
lies of  the  human  race,  any  more  than  an  artificial  difference 
in  the  figure  of  some  parts  of  the  body  proves  a  different  or- 
ganization.    On  viewing  the  distorted  cranium  of  some  tribes 


178  MORAL    EVIL. 

of  American  Indians,  or  the  small  feet  of  the  females  in  the 
Chinese  empire,  shall  we  maintain  that  nature  has  assigned 
no  particular  shape  or  size  to  the  human  head  and  feet  ?  Be- 
cause different  nations  entertain  different  opinions  concern- 
ing the  figure  of  the  earth,  or  the  motions  of  the  solar  system, 
shall  we  argue  that  reason  is  essentially  different  in  the  in- 
habitants of  different  nations,  or  that  the  figure  of  the  earth, 
and  the  motions  of  the  solar  system,  are  merely  ideal,  and 
have  no  real  existence?  In  like  manner,  on  witnessing  a 
difference  of  moral  sentiment,  shall  we  imagine  that  the 
Creator  has  bestowed  no  moral  nature  on  man,  or  that  there 
is  an  original  difference  in  the  moral  constitution  of  human 
beings '?  No  :  both  in  the  one  case  and  in  the  other  the  pe- 
culiarity is  a  perversion.  It  is  the  triumph  of  bad  education 
and  vicious  fashion  over  the  appointment  of  the  Creator.  It 
is  a  deviation  from  the  common  character  of  the  race,  and 
has  arisen  from  some  particular  combination  of  circumstances. 
And  were  we  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances of  those  nations  among  whom  any  singular  moral 
perversity  prevails,  we  would  likely  be  able,  in  those  circum- 
stances, to  trace  the  causes  of  the  aberration.  False  moral 
judgments  need  not  surprise  us  more  than  any  other  intellect- 
ual aberration. 

While  the  law  of  virtue  is  engraved  on  our  hearts,  we  are 
not  compelled  to  obey  it.  Obedience  is  encouraged  by  many 
powerful  motives,  but  it  is  not  enforced  by  a  mechanical  or 
irresistible  impulse.  We  are  free  agents;  and  beings  of  this 
description,  although  formed  with  an  original  bias  towards 
rectitude,  may  abuse  their  liberty.  If  it  be  consistent  with 
the  attributes  of  Deity  to  create  free  agents,  and  to  exercise  a 
moral  government  over  them,  then  neither  the  abuse  of  free 
agency  nor  the  consequent  suffering  constitutes  any  objection 
against  the  Creator  :   blame  attaches  to  the  creature  only. 

On  this  subject,  nothing  comes  fairly  under  discussion  but 
the  original  constitution  of  the  agent,  and  the  circumstances 
in  which  he  is  placed.  Now,  the  moral  faculties  of  man  are 
well  adapted  to  his  condition.  They  may  yield  to  the  temp- 
tations by  which  they  are  assailed,  but  are  strong  enough  to 
repel  those  temptations,  if  we  choose  wisely  to  exercise  them. 
Where  there  is  no  risk  of  failure,  there  is  no  honor  in  suc- 
cess :  if  our  moral  faculties  had  been  so  vigorous  and  active 
as  to  impel  us  in  the  right  path,  without  any  hazard  of  devia- 
tion, there  would  have  been  no  value  in  moral  rectitude. 
Such  a  constitution  would  not  have  been  adapted  to  a  statQ 


MORAL    EVIL.  179 

where  the  agents  are  to  rise  towards  perfection,  triumph,  and 
safety,  by  steady  perseverance,  and  vigorous  exertion  in  a 
scene  of  discipline,  dilHcuhy,  and  trial. 

As  free  agents  may  abuse  their  liberty,  so,  after  moral  evil 
is  once  introduced,  it  is  continued  and  fostered  by  bad  educa- 
tion, false  maxims,  and  vicious  example.  Our  Creator  has 
endued  us  with  noble  capacities;  but  the  evolution  of  those 
capacities  and  their  particular  direction  are  left  to  ourselves. 
By  persevering  discipline  we  can  render  the  body  capable  of 
surprising  operations,  as  is  evident  in  the  feats  of  the  juggler, 
rope-dancer,  and  tumbler.  The  mind  is  still  more  completely 
subject  to  our  dominion,  and  we  aiay  stamp  upon  it  what 
impressions  soever  we  please,  almost  with  as  much  certainty 
as  the  Indian,  by  compression,  gives  to  the  head  of  his  infimt 
the  shape  which  the  fashion  of  his  tribe  dictates.  Whether 
the  moral  germ,  planted  in  our  mind  by  the  finger  of  the  Cre- 
ator, shall  become  a  lovely  plant,  or  a  crooked  and  stunted 
shrub,  depends  on  ourselves.  We  are  empowered  to  be  the 
architects  of  our  character  and  the  authors  of  our  destiny. 

By  education  and  discipline  we  can  form  any  particular 
temper,  and  give  the  empire  of  our  mind  to  what  dispositions 
soever  we  please.  If  we  propose  to  ourselves  a  standard  of 
conduct,  we  can  regulate  our  actions  by  it.  I  do  not  mean 
to  say  that  we  can  instantaneously  form  our  temper  and  con- 
duct according  to  a  given  model ;  .but  we  can  do  so  by  de- 
grees, particularly  if  the  attempt  be  made  in  early  years. 
Practice  is  the  parent  of  habit.  We  cannot  all  at  once  be- 
come proficients  in  any  bodily  exercise  or  mechanical  art 
We  cannot,  on  a  sudden,  give  our  mind  the  vigor  requisite 
in  order  to  high  intellectual  attainments,  nor  at  once  make 
ourselves  masters  of  any  particular  science.  But  we  can  do 
so  gradually,  by  exertion  and  persevering  diligence.  In  the 
same  way  we  can  form  our  temper,  discipline  our  affections 
and  passions,  and  learn  to  regulate  our  conduct.  If,  with 
the  proposed  model  always  present  to  our  imagination,  we 
employ  the  same  vigilant  attention  and  persevering  industry, 
we  will  be  as  successful  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other.  If 
a  whole  community  combine  their  efforts  in  the  same  way, 
and  emulously  press  towards  the  same  point,  the  imitative  pro- 
pensities of  our  nature  will  greatly  facilitate  the  process. 

Nations  are  often  distinguished  by  a  peculiar  character, 
which  may  be  owing,  in  some  measure,  to  external  circum- 
stances, but  which  is  formed  chiefly  by  education,  fashion, 
and  habit.  A  Turk  and  a  Greek,  born  in  the  same  climate, 
and  inhabiting  the  same  country,  are  very  unlike  in  charac- 


180  MORAL    EVIL.       ^ 

ter.  The  Turk  is  grave  and  silent ;  the  Greek  volatile  and 
talkative.  Is  not  this  difference  entirely  owing  to  education 
and  habit?  What  a  diiference  is  there  between  the  Ameri- 
can Indian,  chanting  his  death-song,  and  setting  the  cruelty 
of  his  enemies  at  defiance,  and  Patkul*  on  the  wheel !  Is 
not  the  sensibility  of  the  Indian  as  great,  and  .his  sufferings 
as  acute,  as  those  of  any  other  person  in  similar  circum- 
stances? Education,  sentiment,  and  habit,  however,  have 
fortified  his  mind  against  the  sense  of  pain  and  the  fear  of 
death. 

That  there  is  some  original  and  inexplicable  difference  of 
constitution  and  temper,  as  well  as  of  talents,  among  human 
beings,  may  be  admitted.  But,  generally  speaking,  what  is 
called  natural  temper  is  merely,  I  apprehend,  a  certain  state 
of  mind  which  indulgence  has  formed  into  habit.  If  we  have 
a  bad  temper,  it  is  because  we  have  not  been  duly  careful  to 
form  a  good  one.  If  unworthy  passions  predominate  in  our 
minds,  it  is  because  we  have  cherished  them.  If  our  conduct 
be  incorrect,  it  is  because  we  are  not  attentive  in  regulating 
it.  When  temper  is  very  bad,  all  men  condemn  it.  When 
actions  proceed  to  a  certain  degree  of  enormity,  human  laws 
punish  them.  This  condemnation  and  punishment  show  that, 
according  to  the  general  conviction  of  mankind,  the  temper 
might  have  been  better,  and  the  conduct  refrained  from  ;  for, 
otherwise,  neither  blame  nor  punishment  could  with  pro- 
priety follow.  It  may  be  pleaded,  perhaps,  that  the  passions 
gain  strength  sooner  than  reason,  and  that  the  character  is, 
in  a  great  measure,  formed  before  the  understanding  is  suffi- 
ciently matured  to  take  any  important  part  in  the  operation. 
But  if  reason  be  cherished  as  much  as  passion,  their  growth 
is  more  simultaneous  than  is  commonly  imagined.  At  any 
rate,  reason,  on  attaining  maturity,  can  correct  temper,  sub- 
due passion,  and  regulate  conduct. 

Socrates  was  the  most  illustrious  moral  sage  of  the  ancient 
heathen  world.  Zopyrus,  an  eminent  physiognomist,  on  ex- 
amining the  countenance  of  the  philosopher,  pronounced  him 
the  slave  of  vicious  passions.  The  fiiends  of  Socrates  ridi- 
culed the  pretended  skill  of  Zopyrus  ;  but  the  son  of  Sophro- 
niscus,  with  that  candor  and  ingenuousness  which  formed 
such  a  prominent  feature  in  his  character,  acknowledged  that, 
in  his  early  disposition,  he  was  prone  to  vice;  but  that,  by 
obeying  the  dictates  of  reason  with  persevering  attention  and 
exertion,  he  had  overcome  the  worthless  propensities  which 

A  Livonian,  broken  on  the  wheel  and  quartered  at  Casimir,  1707,  by  th« 
order  of  Charles  XII.  of  Sweden. 


MORAL    EVIL.  181 

had  once  predominated  in  his  mind,  and  given  a  cast  to  the 
lineaments  of  his  countenance.  Are  we  to  neglect  education, 
to  cherish  a  bad  temper  and  unworthy  affections,  to  contract 
bad  habits,  and  to  persist  in  them,  and  then  impute  to  our 
Creator  the  blame  of  our  own  misconduct  ?  God  has  made 
us  free  agents ;  but  at  the  same  time  he  has  endued  us  with 
reason  and  conscience  for  the  government  of  our  hearts  and 
lives,  so  that  the  blame  is  entirely  our  own  if  we  abandon  the 
path  of  rectitude. 

Besides,  our  Creator  does  not  permit  us  to  disobey  the  voice 
of  reason  and  of  conscience  with  impunity.  His  government 
is  so  constituted  that  the  abuse  of  free  agency  is  checked,  not 
only  by  our  moral  nature,  but  by  the  natural  evil  which  it  in- 
troduces or  increases.  The  waters  of  the  ocean,  although 
containing  many  corrupting  substances,  are  preserved  from 
putrefaction.  The  contamination  of  the  atmosphere,  by  res- 
piration and  other  causes,  is  not  allowed  to  go  on  continually 
increasing :  principles  of  counteraction  and  compensation 
are  in  continual  activity.  As  it  is  in  the  natural,  so  it  is  in 
the  moral  world.  The  abuse  of  free  agency  is  subject  to 
checks,  and  is  not  permitted  to  exceed  certain  limits.  Our 
moral  faculties  oppose  its  progress ;  and,  if  this  opposition  be 
borne  down,  an  insuperable  barrier  at  length  presents  itself 
in  the  accumulation  of  natural  evil.  Thus,  by  the  constitu- 
tion of  nature,  moral  evil,  after  proceeding  to  a  certain  extent, 
is  made,  in  some  measure,  to  cure  itself-  When  human  af- 
fairs reach  a  certain  point  of  perturbation,  then,  like  the  in- 
equalities in  the  planetary  system,  they  gradually  return  to 
the  point  from  which  they  set  off.  They  vibrate  within  cer- 
tain limits.  The  accumulation  of  moral  evil  is  wrought  off 
like  a  scum  from  fermenting  liquors.  In  the  natural  world, 
the  tempest  is  a  powerful  means  of  purifying  the  atmosphere  ; 
an  analogous  scene  presents  itself  to  our  view  in  the  moral 
world. 

The  sufferings  which  result  from  the  abuse  of  free  agency 
are  employed,  by  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  Creator, 
not  only  as  means  of  correcting  our  errors,  but  also  of  exerci- 
sing our  virtues,  strengthening  our  faculties,  and  improving 
our  nature.  Suffering  has  a  tendency  to  awaken  our  moral 
sensibilities,  and  to  make  us  reflect  seriously  on  our  actions. 
If  it  be  the  means  of  bringing  us  to  a  due  perception  of  our 
folly  and  guilt,  of  reclaiming  us  from  error,  and  of  leading  us 
to  a  correct  use  of  our  freedom,  we  will  again  taste  the  sweets 
of  virtue,  and  rejoice  under  the  administration  of  a  wise  and 
benevolent  Parent. 
16 


182  MORAL    EVIL. 

Suffering,  in  consequence  of  perverse  affections  and  vicious 
conduct,  may  be  considered  as  the  kind  castigation  of  a  wise 
and  affectionate  father,  to  bring  back  his  erring  children  to 
the  path  of  duty  and  of  happiness.  In  this  point  of  view,  the 
sufferings  of  moral  agents  are  evidently  consistent  with  the 
perfections  and  government  of  an  infinitely  wise  and  good 
Being.  Indeed,  in  a  great  system  of  moral  agency,  the  ab- 
sence of  suffering,  except  in  cases  where  the  agents  have 
passed  victoriously  through  a  state  of  trial,  and,  by  means  of 
instruction,  discipline,  and  practice,  are  confirmed  in  the 
habits  of  virtue,  would  constitute  a  more  formidable  objection 
against  the  perfections  and  government  of  God,  than  any  that 
the  atheist  has  been  able  to  adduce.  The  parent  who  never 
chides  or  chastises,  neglects  the  interest  of  his  erring  child ; 
and  were  the  universal  Parent  never  to  inflict  chastisement 
upon  the  disobedient,  this  would  furnish  a  presumption  that 
he  looked  with  an  indifferent  eye  on  the  conduct  of  his  ra- 
tional offspring,  and  was  careless  about  their  moral  improve- 
ment. But  he  takes  a  lively  interest  in  the  welfare  of  his 
children,  and,  by  wise  instruction  and  salutary  discipline,  re- 
strains their  wanderings,  corrects  their  errors,  encourages, 
exercises,  and  improves  their  virtues,  and  prepares  them  for 
a  more  exalted  stage  of  existence ;  for  associating  with  the 
numerous  and  chosen  society  of  those  who,  having  passed 
triumphantly  through  a  course  of  trial,  are  confirmed  in  vir- 
tue, and  far  advanced  in  the  perfection  of  their  nature. 

We  often  suffer  from  the  abuse  of  free  agency  in  others. 
Discord  in  families ;  jealousies,  calumnies,  envy,  hatred, 
and  mutual  injuries  among  neighbors ;  and  wars  between 
nations,  occasion  the  greater  part  of  human  misery,  and  may 
frequently  involve  us  in  trouble  without  any  fault  of  our  own. 

In  answer  to  this  objection,  we  observe  that  the  moral,  as 
well  as  the  natural  world,  is  governed  by  general  laws ;  and 
free  agency  can  be  limited  only  by  the  nature  and  abilities 
of  the  agents,  subject  to  the  counteraction  of  one  another. 
In  a  great  scheme  of  free  agency,  as  in  our  world,  the  agents 
mutually  operate  upon,  encourage  and  aid,  or  oppose,  check, 
and  restrain  each  other.  Restraints  by  special  interpositions 
of  Deity  are  as  inadmissible  here  as  in  the  general  laws  of 
the  natural  world,  and  would  produce  similar  injurious  ef- 
fects. No  restraints  can  be  imposed  upon  the  agents,  but 
such  as  arise  from  their  physical  and  intellectual  capacities, 
and  the  circumstances  in  which  they  are  placed.  It  is  the 
interest  of  all  to  regulate,  direct,  and  keep  within  due  bounds, 
the  free  agency  of  all ;  and  to  this  common  interest,  in  con- 


MORAL    EVIL.  183 

neclion  with  our  moral  nature,  the  matter  is  left.  I  cannot 
conceive  ht>w  it  could  be  otherwise  without  the  destruction 
of  free  agency. 

^'  What,  in  the  name  of  wonder,"  exclaims  one,  "  can  be 
the  final  cause  of  cruelty,  slaughter,  and  devastation  ?  Why 
should  we  be  both  able  and  willing  to  pervert  the  benevolent 
purposes  of  nature?"  Might  he  not  with  equal  propriety 
have  asked.  What  is  the  final  cause  of  lying,  slander,  theft, 
or  any  other  action  which  proceeds  from  the  abuse  of  free 
agency  ?  Ought  he  not  rather  to  have  asked.  What  is  the  final 
cause  of  our  being  made  free  agents,  creatures  endued  with 
freedom  of  will  and  liberty  of  choice,  and  not  mere  machines? 
For  this  is  the  point  on  which  his  questions  ultimately  bear. 
War,  with  its  frightful  concomitants,  is  a  dreadful  abuse  of 
free  agency,  and  ought  not  to  be  held  up  as  a  stain  on  the 
perfections  or  government  of  God,  but  as  a  melancholy  in- 
stance of  human  perversity.  If  many  suffer  by  war,  many 
are  guilty  by  aiding  and  abetting,  or  not  opposing  and  coun- 
teracting that  profligacy  by  which  it  is  begun  and  carried  on. 
Some,  indeed,  talk  of  wars  as  necessary,  and  seem  to  place 
them  by  the  side  of  the  volcano  and  the  hurricane.  But  it  is 
a  monstrous  absurdity  to  confound  the  guilt  of  the  creature 
with  the  wise  and  gracious  appointments  of  the  Creator. 
Shall  we  vindicate  murder  by  the  plea  that  man  is  born  to  die, 
or  defend  the  conduct  of  the  incendiary  because  lightning 
sometimes  sets  our  property  on  fire  ? 

If,  under  the  operation  of  general  laws,  we  suffer  from  the 
abuse  of  free  agency  in  others,  without  any  fault  of  our  own, 
this  suffering  exercises  and  improves  our  faculties,  and  gives 
scope  for  the  development  of  virtuous  dispositions  and  affec- 
tions which  otherwise  would  have  lain  dormant.  If  we  meet 
with  no  rude  treatment,  we  have  no  occasion  for  meekness 
and  forbearance.  Without  injuries  we  have  no  room  for  the 
exercise  of  forgiveness.  The  sufferings  which  we  endure 
from  the  misconduct  of  others,  if  we  behave  well  under  them, 
do  not  rob  us  of  the  approbation  of  our  own  mind,  and  conse- 
quently cannot  deprive  us  of  happiness.  Our  bearing  them 
well,  and  our  passing  through  the  uncertainties,  dangers,  and 
trials  of  the  present  state  with  prudence  and  fortitude,  are 
means  for  training  us  up  in  a  meetness  for  a  more  excellent 
state  of  being. 

Bad  education,  corrupt  maxims,  and  vicious  example,  have 
a  powerful  and  unhappy  influence  on  human  opinions  and 
conduct.  Bad  government  combines  and  aggravates  all  these 
causes  of  wickedness  and  misery,  and  has  certainly  been  an 


184  NATURAL    EVIL. 

abundant  source  of  tribulation  among  men.  These  are  ad- 
versaries with  which  we  must  strive  in  the  moral  course  ;  ene- 
mies which  we  must  combat  and  overcome  in  our  moral 
warfare.  And  in  order  to  success  in  the  race  and  in  the 
battle,  it  behoves  us  to  use  all  the  means  in  our  power  for  the 
illumination  of  our  understandings  and  regulation  of  our 
hearts ;  to  form  correct  notions  of  duty  and  happiness  ;  to 
cherish  virtue  in  our  minds,  and  with  inflexible  constancy  to 
practise  it  in  our  lives. 

The  existence  of  moral  evil  forms  no  solid  objection  against 
the  divine  wisdom  and  goodness.  It  is  not  so  predominant 
in  the  world  as  some  gloomy  theorists  have  represented  ;  and 
with  respect  to  that  portion  of  it  which  really  occurs,  we  can 
vindicate  the  perfections  of  Deity  from  every  imputation.  We 
are  free  agents — a  condition  necessary  to  moral  government, 
virtue  and  vice,  reward  and  punishment.  We  are  endued 
with  reason  and  conscience  for  the  regulation  of  our  conduct. 
Our  temper  and  character  are  of  our  own  formation.  Our 
actions  flow  from  our  own  free  choice.  If  we  follow  a  right 
course,  we  enjoy  much  happiness.  If  we  act  otherwise,  we 
have  ourselves  to  blame  for  the  consequences ;  nay,  the  suf- 
fering which  ensues  is  a  kind  warning  that  we  have  erred. 
The  evils  which  we  suffer  from  the  misconduct  of  others, 
without  any  fault  of  our  own,  while  they  leave  us  in  the  full 
possession  of  the  approbation  of  our  own  mind,  give  room  for 
the  improvement  of  our  intellectual  and  moral  nature.  In  the 
moral  as  in  the  natural  world,  partial  evil  is  made  subservi- 
ent to  general  good, 

III.     NATURAL    EVIL. 

Having  considered  moral  evil,  we  shall  now  turn  our  atten- 
tion to  natural  evil ;  and  shall  arrange  our  thoughts  on  this 
part  of  the  subject  under  the  following  heads: — 

1.  The  physical  constitution  of  the  earth,  and  the  quality 
of  some  of  its  productions. 

2.  The  nature  of  some  of  the  inferior  animals. 

3.  The  pains  and  sorrows  to  which  man  is  unavoidably 
exposed  from  his  very  constitution,  and  the  circumstances  in 
which  he  is  placed. 

These  topics  open  a  large  field,  and  will  give  room  for  a  va- 
riety of  observations.  But  before  entering  upon  these  things, 
we  shall  take  notice  of  a  principle  of  our  nature,  which  has 
been  already  briefly  mentioned,  but  which  deserves  a  more 
particular  attention;    namely,  its    progressive   capacity,  to- 


NATURAL    EVIL.  185 

gether  with  the  means  by  which,  according  to  the  constitu- 
tion of  things,  that  capacity  is  operated  upon  and  unfolded. 
This  seems  to  be  a  matter  of  considerable  importance  on  the 
subject  under  discussion ;  and  I  shall,  therefore,  illustrate  it 
at  some  length. 

Every  creature  must  be  finite,  and  what  is  finite  is  suscep- 
tible of  melioration.  At  what  point  soever  in  the  scale  of 
intellect  any  created  being  appears,  there  is  room  for  progres- 
sive improvement.  The  being  may  advance  from  a  lower  to 
a  higher  degree  of  excellence.  A  progressive  is  nobler  than 
a  stationary  creature.  The  latter,  if  any  such  exist  in  the 
rational  universe,  whatever  may  be  his  place  in  the  scale,  may 
ultimately  be  greatly  surpassed  by  one  who  started  from  a 
much  lower  point,  but  who  is  endued  with  a  progressive  na- 
ture. The  progressive  principle  pervades  the  system  of  the 
world.  The  early  dawn  gradually  ushers  in  the  morning 
light,  which  shines  clearer  and  clearer  till  the  meridian  sun 
beams  upon  the  earth.  The  seed  germinates,  and,  by  a  grad- 
ual progress,  the  plant  attains  maturity.  The  noble  oak 
springs  from  the  humble  acorn  ;  but  it  must  bear  the  chilling 
blast  of  many  a  winter  before  it  lifts  its  head  with  majestic 
grandeur  among  the  trees  of  the  forest. 

Animals  of  all  kinds  advance,  some  more  rapidly,  some 
more  slowly,  towards  the  perfection  of  their  nature.  The 
progress  is  still  going  on,  although  imperceptibly.  The  plant 
or  the  animal  grows ;  but  we  cannot  at  any  given  moment 
discern  its  growth,  and  point  out  the  increase  it  has  received 
since  the  moment  immediately  preceding.  This  gradual  and 
imperceptible  progress  takes  place  not  only  in  plants  and  ani- 
mals, but  also  in  the  rational  nature  of  man,  the  only  intelli- 
gence that  falls  under  our  observation.  Every  step  in  the 
progress  prepares  the  way  for  that  which  is  to  follow.  We 
have  no  reason  to  complain  that  we  are  children  before  we 
are  men,  for  the  exercises  of  our  boyish  years  are  needful  to 
fit  us  for  the  duties  of  maturer  life  ;  and  we  have  good  reason 
to  conclude,  that  the  dispositions  and  habits  formed  and  cher- 
ished by  the  active  and  virtuous  discharge  of  the  duties  of 
the  present  life,  educate  and  prepare  us  for  entering  into  the 
enjoyment  of  a  higher  state  of  existence. 

Our  being  endued  with  a  capacity  of  progressive  improve- 
ment is  of  itself  a  strong  presumption  of  goodness  in  the  Dei- 
ty. If  the  means  provided  in  nature  for  unfolding  this  ca- 
pacity answer  the  end,  God  must  be  wise :  in  so  far  as  we 
have  pleasure  in  the  use  of  these  means,  it  demonstrates  that 
he  is  benevolent.  Now,  we  contend,  that  the  means  are  ad- 
16* 


186  NATURAL    EVIL. 

equate  to  the  end,  and,  generally  speaking,  we  have  pleasure 
in  the  use  of  the  means ;  consequently  God  is  both  wise  and 
good.  Even  in  those  instances  where  we  have  no  immediate 
pleasure  in  the  means,  nay,  even  where  they  give  us  pain, 
there  is  no  proof  of  malevolence^  because  even  these  painful 
means  are  excitements  to  improvement  and  consequent  hap- 
piness. They  are  often  occasioned  by  our  having  been  care- 
less of  the  means  of  improvement.  The  schoolboy  may  dis- 
like the  discipline  by  which  he  is  urged  to  his  task  ;  but  if 
the  ambition  of  excellence  does  not  spur  him  on,  other  incite- 
ments must  be  applied.  This,  however,  is  no  proof  of  ma- 
levolence in  the  teacher.  We  are  impelled  to  the  means  of 
improvement  by  reward  and  punishment ;  happy  when  we 
use,  unhappy  when  we  neglect  them. 

The  means  provided  in  nature  for  the  expansion  of  our  ca- 
pacities, both  of  body  and  mind,  are  adequate  to  the  end. 
Exercise  is  the  chief  means  of  our  improvement.  It  braces 
and  invigorates  the  body ;  it  unfolds  and  strengthens  the 
powers  of  the  mind ;  and  to  exercise  we  are  prompted  both 
by  the  constitution  of  our  nature,  and  the  circumstances  in 
which  we  are  placed.  Like  Sisyphus,  we  must  roll  our  stone  ; 
but  we  do  not,  like  Sisyphus,  roll  it  in  vain.  By  every  wise 
and  vigorous  exertion  we  rise  in  excellence,  and  never  lose 
ground  but  by  folly,  carelessness,  or  sloth.  Within  certain 
limits,  the  vigor  of  our  faculties  increases  in  proportion  to 
the  employment  which  we  give  them. 

Bodily  exertion  renders  the  whole  frame  active,  robust,  and 
hardy  ;  and  any  particular  member  of  the  body,  or  organ  of 
sense,  that  is  much  employed,  acquires  a  corresponding  de- 
gree of  strength  and  dexterity  in  the  peculiar  manner  of  its 
application.  Those  persons  who  bear  on  their  backs  the 
produce  of  the  Mexican  mines  exhibit  a  robust  appearance. 
The  diminutive  Bosjesman*  bounds  over  the  mountains  with 
the  agility  of  a  roe.  The  American  savage  discerns  the  foot- 
steps of  his  friend  or  of  his  enemy,  where  a  European  eye 
does  not  perceive  any  vestige.  The  mariner  descries  a  ship 
at  sea,  where  a  stranger  to  maritime  life  cannot  behold  a 
speck  in  the  distant  horizon.  The  Bedouin  Arab,t  who, 
after  sweeping  the  view  with  his  eye,  alights  from  his  horse,, 
and  applies  his  ear  to  the  ground,  listening  for  the  tread  of 
the  distant  traveller  of  the  desert,  catches  the  sound  which 
entirely  escapes  one  unpractised  in  his  manner  of  life.     A 

*  Rosjesmcn  or  Buslimen,  a  tribe  of  Hottentots. 

i  Bedouins  or  I'edoweens,  a  numerous  Mohammedan  race,  in  the  deserts  of 
Arabia,  E^ypl^  and  Northern  Africa. 


NATURAL    EVIL.  187 

blind  person  has  been  seen  to  walk  the  streets  of  a  town,  and 
turn  every  corner  with  the  utmost  precision ;  and  in  some 
blind  persons,  the  sense  of  feeling  has  become  so  delicate 
as  to  enable  them  to  distinguish  cloths  of  different  colors, 
and  even  in  cloth  of  mixed  colors  to  ascertain  the  particu- 
lars. The  senses  of  smell  and  taste  are  equally  susceptible 
of  improvement. 

Practice  is  the  parent  of  dexterity  in  any  manual  operation, 
as  is  evident  in  all  the  mechanical  arts.  It  likewise  improves 
skill  in  the  conduct  of  any  difficult  enterprise.  An  American 
Indian  will  safely  shoot  a  rapid  in  his  canoe,  or  steer  his  frail 
bark  in  the  tempestuous  ocean,  where  the  most  experienced 
European  seaman  would  perish.  As  the  body  is  braced  by 
labor,  the  organs  of  sense  meliorated  by  careful  application, 
and  manual  dexterity  acquired  by  practice,  so  the  mind  is  im- 
proved and  strengthened  by  the  exercise  of  its  faculties.  In- 
genuity is  sharpened  by  the  occasions  which  call  it  forth.  By 
being  brought  into  action,  our  mental  powers  acquire  an  in- 
crease of  strength  and  modification  of  habit.  Every  faculty, 
judgment,  memory,  or  imn.gination,  is  improved,  according  to 
the  exercise  which  we  give  it.  The  tool  with  which  I  per- 
form any  manual  labor  wears  away  in  the  operation.  The 
axe  and  the  saw  become  blunt ;  and,  by  frequent  attrition,  the 
substance  of  the  ploughshare  and  of  the  spade  is  gradually 
diminished;  but  the  hand  of  the  laborer  hardens,  and  accom- 
modates itself  to  his  work,  while  his  arm  waxes  stronger  by 
employment.  The  mind,  if  allowed  to  slumber  in  drowsy  in- 
dolence, becomes  feeble  and  palsied;  but  call  it  into  action, 
and  its  dormant  powers  are  awakened.  When  employed  on 
external  objects,  it  operates  beneficially  on  itself,  for  its  ca- 
pacities expand;  and,  like  a  plant  under  the  genial  influence 
of  the  solar  beam,  all  its  powers  are  unfolded.  Both  body  and 
mind  bear  a  resemblance  to  the  magnet,  which,  by  gradual 
additions,  may  be  made  to  bear  a  weight  which,  at  first,  it 
was  utterly  incapable  of  supporting. 

All  our  pleasures  have  a  close  connection  with  the  exercise 
of  our  bodily  and  mental  powers;  and  one  outward  situation 
is  more  favorable  to  happiness  than  another  only  in  propor- 
tion as  it  gives  opportunities  for  a  more  varied  and  uncon- 
strained exertion  of  them.  The  love  of  exercise  plainly  ap- 
pears in  the  inferior  animals.  Lambs  running  and  gambol- 
ing round  a  hillock;  horses  scouring  the  plain;  dogs  keenly 
pursuing  each  other  ;  and  even  the  timid  hares  sporting  to- 
gether, are  proofs  that  the  felicity  of  the  animated  being  does 
not  consist  in  motionless  repose  and  inactive  gratification. 


18S  NATURAL    EVIL. 

We  see  children  actively  employed  in  their  amusements. 
They  delight  in  the  exercise  of  their  limbs  ;  and  that  exercise 
preserves  their  health  and  promotes  their  growth.  Happiness 
is  not  found  on  a  bed  of  down,  nor  in  a  state  of  listless  sloth 
and  luxurious  gratification.  Cheerless  languor,  lingering  dis- 
ease, and  early  death,  are  the  common  lot  of  wealthy  indo- 
lence. But  the  person  who  labors  diligently  for  his  daily 
bread,  is  in  general  healthy,  cheerful,  and  contented. 

It  is  a  common  law  of  our  nature,  that  what  costs  little  ex- 
ertion imparts  little  pleasure  ;  what  is  obtained  without  labor 
or  expense  is  possessed  without  enjoyment.  He  who  gains 
a  fortune  by  his  own  industry,  feels  a  relish  in  the  possession 
of  it,  to  which  he  who  succee^'s  to  a  similar  fortune,  without 
industry,  is  a  stranger.  Indeed,  there  is  often  more  pleasure 
in  pursuit  than  in  possession,  in  hope  than  in  enjoyment,  in 
labor  than  in  reward.  Many  things  are  valued  chiefly  on 
account  of  the  pleasure  which  the  pursuit  affords.  Game  is 
hunted  not  so  much  for  its  intrinsic  worth  as  for  the  gratifi- 
cation of  the  chase. 

The  mind  of  man  has  no  pleasure  in  unvarying  rest.  Its 
enjoyment  springs  from  action.  Hence  men  in  every  rank, 
and  in  every  stage  of  society,  devise  employment  for  them- 
selves, if  it  be  not  imposed  upon  them  by  necessity.  The 
South  Sea  islander  exercises  and  amuses  himself  by  sporting 
among  the  breakers  like  a  walrus.  The  North  American  In- 
dians, in  the  vicinity  of  the  Athapuscow  and  Slave  lakes, 
instead  of  enjoying  all  that  rest  and  ease  of  which  their  cir- 
cumstances admit,  court  exercise  and  employment  at  the  ex- 
pense of  severe  privation  and  great  danger.  They  can  easily 
find  a  plentiful  subsistence  for  their  families  during  winter, 
by  catching  deer  in  a  pound  ;  but  only  the  aged  and  infirm, 
the  women  and  children,  and  a  few  of  the  more  indolent  and 
unambitious,  will  submit  to  remain  in  the  parts  where  food 
and  clothing  can  be  so  easily  procured.  To  this  they  prefer 
the  uncertainty,  fatigue,  privations,  and  dangers  of  the  chase, 
and  of  a  wandering  life.  "  In  my  opinion,"  says  the  hardy 
traveller  who  states  the  fact,  ''  there  cannot  exist  a  stronger 
proof  that  man  was  not  created  to  enjoy  happiness  in  this 
world,  than  the  conduct  of  those  miserable  beings  who  inhab- 
it this  wretched  part  of  it."  Here  we  have  an  example  of  the 
incorrect  thinking  not  unfrequently  entertained  by  persons 
whose  lives  are  more  devoted  to  action  than  contemplation ; 
for  the  opinion  rests  on  the  supposition,  that  happiness  con- 
sists in  undisturbed  repose,  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  unso- 
licited abundance.     But  in  a  state  of  unvarying  ease  and  spon- 


NATURAL    EVIL.  189 

taneous  plenty  it  does  not  consist ;  it  is  in  earnest  pursuit 
and  vigorous  exertion  that  the  energies  of  the  hanian  being 
are  unfolded  ;  and  in  them  is  his  happiness  obtained.  The 
hunter  is  pursuing  and  enjoying  pleasure  amidst  the  fatigues 
of  the  chase  and  the  perils  of  the  wilderness. 

In  civilized  society,  the  opulent,  who  are  under  no  ne- 
cessity of  earning  their  means  of  subsistence  by  daily  ex- 
ertion, find  employment  for  themselves  by  engiging  in 
hunting,  or  in  other  similar  occupations.  The  mm  of  sci- 
ence and  liberal  curiosity  renounces  literary  ease  and  domes- 
tic comfort,  traverses  the  globe,  mingles  with  savage  tribes, 
ascends  the  Alps  or  the  Andes,  encounters  the  cold  and 
storms  of  polar  regions,  or  visits  the  crater  of  JStna  or  Hecla. 
Our  most  exalted  pleasures  flow  from  successful  exertions  of 
intellect.  What  sensual  gratification  deserves,  for  a  moment, 
to  be  compared  with  the  joy  of  Pythagoras,  on  discovering 
that  the  square  of  the  hypothenuse  is  equal  to  the  squares  of 
the  other  two  sides  of  the  right-angled  triangle  ?— with  the 
transport  of  Archimedes,  when  he  sprung  out  of  the  bath, 
exclaiming,  "  I  have  found  it !  "  on  discovering  a  method 
by  which  he  could  ascertain  the  quantity  of  silver  which  a 
goldsmith  had  put  into  Hiero's  crown?  or  with  the  ecstasy  of 
Franklin,  when  he  perceived  the  fibres  of  the  cord  attached 
to  his  kite  exhibiting  signs  of  electricity  ?  These  are  the 
most  sublime  enjoyments  of  which  man,  in  his  present  state, 
is  susceptible  ;  and  all  these  advantages,  which  we  gain  by 
skill,  industry,  and  virtue,  give  us  high  pleasure  on  reflection. 
Thus  exercise  is  the  chief  means  of  our  improvement  and 
happiness;  and  to  exercise  we  are  impelled,  not  only  by  the 
constitution  of  our  nature,  but  also  by  the  circumstances  in 
which  we  are  placed.  Our  constitution  and  circumstances 
are  as  much  adapted  to  each  other  as  the  wing  of  the  bird 
and  the  atmosphere  ;  the  gills  of  the  fish  and  water.  Here 
we  have  a  striking  instance  of  that  relation  of  one  thing  to 
another  which  pervades  the  universe,  and  which  demonstrates 
unity  of  plan  and  skilful  contrivance  in  its  formation. 

Had  we  been  set  down  in  a  situation  where  every  want 
was  at  once  supplied,  every  wish  and  desire  gratified  without 
difficulty  or  delay,  and  where  there  was  no  room  for  ingenious 
contrivance  and  active  exertion,  we  should  have  been  the 
miserable  victims  of  languor  and  satiety.  Without  something 
to  awaken  fear,  encourage  hope,  and  stimulate  activity,  life 
stagnates  in  stupid  torpitude  and  melancholy  indolence. 
But  nature  around  us  is  admirably  fitted  to  rouse  activity, 
encourage  ingenuity,  and  reward  industrious  exertion.     Eve- 


190  NATURAL    EVIL. 

ry  thing  conspires  to  animate  our  diligence,  to  improve  our 
talents,  and  to  promote  our  happiness.  The  earth  is  wisely 
accommodated  to  our  active  and  intelligent  nature,  for  its 
bowels  as  well  as  its  surface  administer  to  our  comfort ;  and 
every  part  of  nature  around  us  may  be  made  to  increase 
and  diversify  our  enjoyments,  according  to  our  circumstances 
and  tastes. 

There  is  no  danger  that  the  means  of  employing  either  our 
bodily  or  intellectual  powers  will  ever  be  exhausted.  To  cul- 
tivate the  earth,  drain  the  marsh,  straighten  the  water-course, 
and  embank  the  river;  to  form  roads  and  bridges,  and  to 
carry  on  the  various  branches  of  manufacture  and  commerce, 
will  still  furnish  abundant  scope  for  human  industry.  There 
will  also  be  an  ample  field  for  the  operations  of  intellect  in 
the  progress  of  science  ;  for  although  our  present  attainments 
are  great,  yet  the  next  generation  will  find  enough  to  exer- 
cise their  ingenuity.  Every  step  we  advance  in  knowledge 
enlarges  our  views,  and  opens  new  subjects  of  investigation 
and  discovery.  It  is  like  travelling  in  a  winding  and  inter- 
minable valley,  bounded  on  each  side  by  woods  and  mountains. 
At  each  bend,  where  we  expected  to  find  its  termination,  we 
perceive  that  the  scene  is  only  varied,  and  new  prospects  dis- 
closed to  our  view.  Notwithstanding  all  the  industry,  skill, 
and  discoveries  of  Davy,  there  still  remains  abundance  of 
room  for  laborers  in  the  same  field ;  to  trace  matter  to  its 
elementary  forms,  and  through  its  various  combinations. 
Newton  improved  on  the  discoveries  of  Kepler*  and  Galileo.t 
La  Place  has  executed  what  Newton  left  undone  ;  but  there 
is  still  room  for  adding  to  the  sublime  discoveries  of  La 
Grange  I  and  La  Place.  The  intellectual  hero  will  never 
need  to  sit  down  and  weep  because  he  has  conquered  the 
world  of  science,  and  exhausted  the  mines  of  discovery.  To 
a  person  of  determined  and  persevering  industry,  to  whom 

*  A  German  astronomer  of  hig^h  celebrity,  the  friend  and  companion  of  Tycho 
Brahe,  and  liiglily  commended  by  Des  Cartes,  Newton,  and  others.  He  was  the 
first  who  proved  tiiat  the  orbits  of  the  planets  are  elliptical,  instead  of  spherical, 
as  was  then  believed ;  and  that,  in  their  motions,  they  describe  equal  areas  in 
equal  times,  and  that  the  squares  of  their  periodical  limes  are  equal  to  the  cubes 
of  their  distances.  Yet  he  held  to  strange  absurdities  ;  among  others,  that  the 
earth  has  a  sympathy  with  the  heavens,  and  that  the  globe  is  a  hu^'e  animal, 
which  exhales  the  winds  through  the  crevices  of  the  mountains,  as  through  its 
mouth  and  nostrils  !     He  died  at  Ralisbon,  IGSO,  set.  57. 

t  A  celebrated  astronomer  and  mathematician  of  Florence.  He  first  discov- 
ered mountains  in  the  moon,  four  of  Jupiter's  satellites,  and  the  Medicean  stars. 
He  invented  tlie  cycloid,  and  observed  the  increasing  velocity  of  the  descent  of 
bodies.     He  suffered  greatly  from  the  inquisition,  and  died  1G42,  set.  78. 

X  A  mathematician  of  Turin.  To  him  we  are  indebted  for  many  impor- 
tant discoveries  respecting  the  motion  of  fluids,  and  the  theory  of  vibrations. 
He  died,  1813,  at  Paris,  aet.  77. 


NATURAL    EVIL.  101 

no  labor  is  irksome,  and  no  difficulty  appears  insurmountable  ; 
to  him  no  enterprise  is  too  great,  and  no  attainment  hopeless ; 
no  department  in  science,  and  no  discovery  in  nature,  is 
above  his  reach. 

We  may  further  remark,  that  employment  is  an  advantage 
to  our  moral  as  well  as  to  out  intellectual  nature.  It  is  a 
powerful  preventive  of  temptation ;  for  he  who  has  nothing 
to  do  has  much  need  to  be  confirmed  in  virtue.  Such,  then, 
is  our  active  nature,  and  such  the  circumstances  in  which  we 
are  placed.  In  so  far  as  these  circumstances  are  fitted  to 
exercise  and  develop  our  powers,  they  may  fairly  be  adduced 
as  evidences  of  wisdom  ;  and  if  we  have  enjoyment  in  the 
exercises  to  which  our  nature  and  circumstances  prompt  us, 
the  Author  of  the  system  must  be  benevolent. 

I  now  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  natural  evil,  under 
the  several  heads  already  mentioned,  namely,  the  physical 
constitution  of  the  earth  ;  the  nature  of  some  of  the  inferior 
animals  ;  and  the  pains  and  sorrows  to  which   man  is  liable. 

1.  The  physical  constitution  of  the  earth. 

Some  have  objected  to  the  general  appearance  of  the  earth, 
representing  it  as  a  shapeless  mass,  without  order  or  beauty ; 
inundated  by  the  ocean,  disfigured  by  ragged  promontories 
and  irregular  indentations ;  the  dry  land  deformed  by  moun- 
tains and  morasses;  occupied  by  lakes  or  deserts  ;  yielding 
poisonous  plants  and  minerals ;  in  one  quarter  parched  by 
the  beams  of  a  vertical  sun,  and  in  another  bound  up  in 
chains  of  everlasting  ice.  Such  representations,  at  first  sight, 
have  an  imposing  appearance,  and,  when  expressed  in  pomp- 
ous language,  may  please  the  ear,  and  have  no  small  tenden- 
cy to  mislead  the  imagination.  But,  on  a  closer  inspection, 
those  apparently  mighty  difficulties  in  a  great  measure  disap- 
pear ;  and  the  due  consideration  of  them  teaches  us  a  lesson 
of  caution  and  humility  when  examining  the  works  of  the 
Almighty.  It  teaches  us  not  to  be  hasty  in  supposing  that 
improvement  would  follow  a  change  in  any  of  the  great  con- 
ditions of  nature  ;  for  such  a  change,  it  is  likely,  instead  of 
improving  the  world,  would  break  the  harmony  of  its  parts, 
and  destroy  the  symmetry  and  use  of  the  whole. 

That  the  earth  bears  marks  of  having  undergone  some 
great  convulsion,  is  not  denied;  but  we  do  not  admit  that 
from  this  any  inference  can  be  drawn  against  the  perfections 
or  government  of  Deity ;  for  the  earth,  as  it  presently  ap- 
pears, is  a  convenient  habitation  for  man  and  for  the  inferior 
animals.  These  animals  all  find  subsistence.  With  respect 
to  man,  every  thing  around  him  is  fitted  for  supplying  his 


192  NATURAL    EVIL. 

wants,  and  for  promoting  his  enjoyments,  by  calling  forth  his 
activity  and  by  giving  scope  to  his  exertions.  Every  thing  is 
adapted  to  his  physical  and  intellectual  constitution,  and  is 
suited  to  preserve  his  health,  to  brace  his  body,  and  to  invig- 
orate his  mind. 

The  great  extent  of  the  ocean,  in  the  estimation  of  some 
persons,  is  a  mark  of  imperfection.  And  on  this  subject  let 
us  listen  to  the  complaints  of  the  atheist,  and  call  in  his  wis- 
dom to  remedy  the  evil.  Let  us  empower  him  to  dry  up  the 
waters,  and  to  reveal  the  deep  channels  of  the  ocean;  yea,  if 
he  will,  to  elevate  the  bottom  of  the  sea  to  a  level  with  the 
adjacent  land,  and  to  give  the  earth  the  exact  convexity  of 
an  artificial  globe.  He  has  remedied  what  he  thought  a  de- 
fect ;  he  has  introduced  beauty  where,  in  his  imagination, 
deformity  prevailed.  What  is  the  effect  of  his  supposed  im- 
provement? By  one  great  operation  he  has  destroyed  a  vast 
number  and  variety  of  sentient  beings,  which  dwelt  in  the 
ocean  and  enjoyed  happiness.  He  has  also  laid  the  sure 
foundation  for  the  speedy  extinction  of  animal  and  vegetable 
existence ;  for  if  there  be  no  ocean,  the  sun  will  exhale  no 
vapors ;  no  clouds  will  float  on  the  atmosphere,  and  neither 
dew  nor  rain  will  descend  on  the  earth.  But  if  there  be  no 
dew  and  no  rain,  where  shall  we  find  the  aliment  of  vegeta- 
tion ;  the  murmuring  brook  and  the  majestic  river?  Experi- 
ence teaches  us  that  without  springs  and  rivers  there  is  no 
fertility ;  and,  consequently,  without  them  man  and  beast 
must  expire,  and  lifeless  stillness  and  sterility  take  possession 
of  the  vast  desert.  Such  are  the  effects  of  atheistical  wisdom 
and  improvement.  Before  any  complain  of  the  extent  of  the 
ocean  on  the  terraqueous  globe,  let  them  show  that  a  less  sur- 
face of  water  would  equally  well  answer  all  the  purposes 
served  by  the  sea.  This,  we  may  without  hesitation  affirm, 
they  can  never  do.  We  may,  therefore,  dismiss  their  com- 
plaints on  this  subject,  as  the  offspring  of  ignorance  and  folly. 

The  ocean  is  a  vast  field  of  enjoyment  to  sentient  beings, 
and  it  yields  inexhaustible  treasures  to  the  human  race.  If 
we  look  to  the  two  extremities  of  the  American  continent, 
we  see,  at  the  one,  the  wandering  savage  of  Terra  del  Fuego 
devouring  fish;  and,  at  the  other,  the  Esquimaux  spearing 
salmon  in  the  Copper  Mine  River.  Although  many  of  the 
human  race  draw  a  considerable  portion  of  their  subsistence 
from  the  deep,  yet  this  great  storehouse  has,  perhaps,  never 
hitherto  been  turned  to  the  best  account  by  civilized  nations. 
The  sea  also  facilitates  the  intercourse  of  nations,  and  har- 
monizes with  the  whole  system  of  nature,  in  presenting  a 


NATURAL   EVIL.  193 

scene  fitted  to  awaken  the  energy,  and  to  give  employment 
to  the  activity  and  enterprise  of  man. 

The  ocean  is  preserved  at  a  moderate  temperature  by  the 
statical  principle  by  which  the  heavier  columns  of  a  fluid  dis- 
place the  lighter;  and,  consequently,  it  tends  to  modify  the 
temperature  of  the  land.  For  the  temperature  of  the  ocean 
communicates  itself  to  the  superincumbent  atmosphere  on 
every  side  ;  and,  in  this  way,  the  sea  cools  the  land  in  tropical 
climates,  and  increases  the  temperature  in  high  latitudes. 
How  refreshing  is  the  sea  breeze  to  one  panting  under  a  ver- 
tical sun !  And  do  not  the  insular  inhabitants  of  high  lati- 
tudes enjoy  in  winter  a  milder  atmosphere  than  they  who 
dwell  on  great  continents  under  the  same  parallel  1 

Humboldt  has  observed  that  the  interior  provinces  of 
America,  between  30°  and  38°  north  latitude,  like  the  rest 
of  North  America,  have  a  climate  essentially  different  from 
that  of  the  same  parallels  on  the  old  continent.  A  remarka- 
ble inequality  prevails  between  the  temperature  of  the  differ- 
ent seasons.  German  winters  succeed  to  Neapolitan  and 
Sicilian  summers.  This  is,  no  doubt,  partly  owing  to  the 
configuration  of  the  land  and  the  course  of  the  mountains; 
but  a  grand  cause  of  it  seems  to  be  the  breadth  of  the  conti- 
nent, and  its  prolongation  towards  the  north  pole  i  for  great 
and  unbroken  continents  are  favorable  to  the  extremes  of 
heat  or  cold,  because  the  surface  of  the  land  is  heated  or 
cooled  sooner  than  the  water.  This  principle  may  be  appli- 
ed in  explanation  of  the  fact  that,  in  proceeding  eastward 
from  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic,  through  Europe  and  the 
north  of  Asia,  the  temperature-  of  any  parallel  of  latitude  still 
becomes  lower  as  we  advance.  The  ocean,  then,  is  a  great 
source  of  animal  enjoyment.  It  is  of  essential  importance 
to  our  world  ;  and  we  have  no  reason  to  conclude  that  a  less 
basin  of  water  would  answer  all  the  purposes  in  the  economy 
of  nature.  The  deep  indentations  of  bays  and  gulfs  are 
highly  useful  for  commercial  purposes  ;  and  they  also  con- 
tribute to  supply  the  wants  of  man,  by  bringing  the  stores  of 
the  sea  into  the  bosom  of  the  land. 

Some  complain  that  the  surface  of  the  earth  is  broken 
down  into  many  inequalities,  rugged  mountains,  deep  valleys, 
and  morasses.  But  this  constitution  of  things,  instead  of 
being  a  just  ground  of  complaint,  serves  many  valuable  pur- 
poses. It  gives  the  productions  of  different  climates  under 
the  same  latitude ;  furnishes  a  residence  and  food  for  differ- 
ent kinds  of  animated  beings,  is  a  powerful  means  of  cloth- 
in(T  the  earth  with  beauty  and  fertility ;  and  gives  scope  to 
17 


194  NATURAL    EVIL. 

the  ingenuity  and  exertions  of  man.  In  ascending  the 
Andes,  for  instance,  at  different  points  above  the  level  of  the 
sea,  we  meet  with  the  productions  of  equatorial  and  polar 
regions,  and  of  all  the  intermediate  climates.  In  Mexico, 
the  same  parallel  of  latitude  produces  the  banana,  the  apple, 
the  sugar-cane,  wheat,  the  manioc,  and  potato.  There  the 
nutritive  gramina,  which  vegetate  among  the  ices  of  Norway 
and  Siberia,  cover  the  fields  of  the  torrid  zone.  There  the 
oak  grows  only  at  an  elevation  above  the  level  of  the  sea  of 
between  2500  and  10,000  feet :  the  pine  never  descends  far- 
ther down  towards  the  coast  of  Vera  Cruz  than  to  about  6000 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  is  never  found  higher  in 
the  mountains  than  about  13,000  feet.  The  wheat  of  Eu- 
rope occupies  a  belt  on  the  declivities  of  those  mountains, 
between  about  4500  and  10,000  of  elevation  ;  the  banana- 
tree,  the  fruit  of  which  constitutes  so  much  of  the  food  of  the 
inhabitants  of  many  tropical  regions,  scarcely  bears  any  fruit 
at  a  higher  elevation  than  5000  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
sea.  Some  plants  live  only  in  cold  and  mountainous  places; 
and  it  were  vain  to  look  for  them  but  in  regions  bordering  on 
everlasting  snow. 

Although  many  mountains  do  not  rise  to  the  height  of 
those  now  referred  to,  yet,  in  their  several  degrees,  they 
yield  nourishment  to  a  proportional  diversity  of  plants.  If 
it  be  alleged  that  this  can  hold  true  of  mountains  in  tropical 
or  temperate  regions  only,  it  may  be  remarked  that  the  height 
of  mountains  diminishes  as  we  advance  from  the  equator 
towards  the  pole.  Chimborazo,  at  the  equator,  is  about 
20,000  feet  high  :  the  mountains  of  Iceland,  on  the  confines 
of  the  Arctic  circle,  are  not  above  a  fourth  or  fifth  part  of 
that  height. 

The  variety  of  mountains  and  valleys  furnishes  different 
kinds  of  animals  with  a  residence  and  food  suited  to  their 
natures.  The  ox  delights  in  the  plain,  as  there  he  finds  the 
food  which  to  him  is  most  palatable.  Sheep  prefer  the 
naked  hill,  because  their  he\ovGd  fcstiic a  grows  there.  Goats 
climb  the  precipice  to  browse  on  tender  shrubs  ;  and,  by 
their  agility  and  the  structure  of  their  feet,  they  are  well 
qualified  for  springing  from  crag  to  crag.  The  argali,  or  wild 
sheep,  and  some  of  the  deer  kind,  give  the  preference  to  the 
bare  mountain.  In  warm  climates,  high  mountains,  by  means 
of  the  ice  and  snow  with  which  they  are  perpetually  clothed, 
lower  the  temperature  of  the  neighboring  plains.  The  tower- 
ing Andes  cool  the  contiguous  countries,  and  the  mountains 
of  Thibet  render  the  spreading  plains  of  Hindostan  habita- 


NATURAL    EVIL.  195 

ble.*  Mountains  also  modify  and  direct  the  course  of  the 
winds,  and  shelter  the  low  lands  from  the  blast.  To  moun- 
tains the  plain  is  indebted  for  its  beauty  and  fertility.  They 
attract  the  clouds,  condense  the  vapors,  are  the  sources  of 
streams  and  rivers,  and  convey  a  fructifying  moisture  to  the 
valley  and  the  plain. 

Ray,t  in  his  valuable  work  on  "  the  Wisdom  of  God  in 
Creation,"  distinctly  states  the  fact,  that  more  water  is  ex- 
haled from  the  sea  in  vapor  than  is  returned  to  it  in  rain; 
but  for  the  fact  he  is  at  a  loss  to  account.  "  Why,"  says  he, 
''  should  not  the  winds  carry  the  vapors  that  are  exhaled  out 
of  the  earth,  down  to  the  sea,  as  well  as  bring  them  up  upon 
the  earth  which  are  raised  from  the  sea  ?  Or,  which  is  all 
one,  why  should  not  the  wdnd  blow  indifferently  from  sea 
and  land?  To  which  I  answer,  that  I  must  needs  acknowl- 
edge myself  not  to  comprehend  the  reason  hereof"  In  ex- 
planation of  the  fact,  for  w^hich  this  well-informed  WTiter  did 
not  attempt  to  account,  we  may  observe,  first,  that  the  sur- 
face of  the  land  is  more  easily  heated  than  the  sea,  conse- 
quently the  w  ind  blows  from  the  sea  towards  the  land  to  re- 
store the  equilibrium,  and  carries  the  vapors  along  with  it : 
secondly,  mountains  attract  the  clouds,  stop  them  in  their 
course,  and  make  them  pour  down  their  contents  on  the 
earth.  These  two  observations  go  far  to  explain  the  fact  that 
more  rain  falls  on  the  dry  land  than  is  exhaled  from  it;  and 
they  tend  to  show  the  utility  of  mountains. 

If  we  trace  the  course  of  any  great  river,  it  conducts  us 
to  mountains.  The  Orinoco  and  the  De  la  Plata  lead  us  to 
the  Andes.  The  Mississippi  and  the  St.  Lawrence  have  their 
sources  in  an  elevated  region ;  and  a  mountainous  ridge  sep- 
arates the  basin  of  the  Columbia  from  the  waters  of  the  Mis- 
souri. The  Alps  send  forth  the  Danube  and  the  Rhine,  the 
Rhone  and  the  Po.  The  vapors  exhaled  from  the  Mediter- 
ranean pass  over  Egypt  almost  without  dispensing  a  single 
shower ;  but  the  lofty  mountains  in  Abyssinia  arrest  them 
in  their  course,  and  rob  them  of  their  treasures.  The  Nile, 
spreading  fertility  over  its  banks,  conveys  the  swelling  waters 
to  the  Mediterranean.  Thus  the  mountains  of  Abyssinia, 
lying  in  about  12°  N.  latitude,  are  the  means  of  clothing  the 

*  Under  the  equator,  tbe  reg-ion  of  perpetual  snow  commences  at  an  eleva- 
tion of  15,750  feet :  in  45°  N.  lat.  it  commences  at  8350  fef  t. 

t  Ray,  or  Wray,  an  eminent  English  naturalist,  fellow  of  Trinity  Colleg'e, 
Cambridge.  He  "devoted  himself  to  botany  and  the  universal  history  of  nature. 
He  was  characterized  by  a  strong  benevolence  of  heart,  humility  of  mind,  and 
modesty  of  manners.  His  works  are  very  voluminous,  and  the  one  referred 
to  in  the  text  particularly  valuable. 


196  NATURAL   EVIL, 

Thebais  and  Delta,  from  24<^  to  31°,  with  beauty  and  abun- 
dance. Without  the  mountains  of  Abyssinia  the  valley  of 
Egypt  would  remain  an  arid  and  inhospitable  desert.  We 
might  run  over  the  globe,  and  every  where  we  would  find 
mountains  of  essential  benefit  to  the  earth.  While  they  at- 
tract the  clouds,  their  structure  is  such  as  to  retain  much  of 
their  water,  and  to  give  it  out  in  perennial  streams. 

Mountains  contain  iron,  copper,  lead,  and  many  other  min- 
eral substances  of  indispensable  utility  to  agriculture  and 
the  arts ;  and  although  to  some  they  may  appear  marks  of 
irregularity  and  deformity,  they  are  nevertheless  the  perfec- 
tion of  order,  and  essential  to  the  beauty  and  fertility  of  the 
earth.  Without  them  we  can  have  no  magnificent  or  pleas- 
ing scenery.  They  aiford  a  commodious  residence  or  a  safe 
retreat  to  many  of  the  inferior  animals,  and  they  diversity, 
adorn,  and  enrich  the  prospect  to  man.  While  so  extensively 
beneficial,  they  do  not  so  much  afi'ect  the  sphericity  of  the 
earth,  as  a  few  grains  of  sand,  scattered  on  the  surface  of  an 
eighteen  inch  globe,  affect  its  sphericity.  For  the  diameter 
of  the  earth  is  nearly  8000  miles  ;  and  the  top  even  of  Chim- 
borazo,  the  loftiest  peak  on  our  globe,  is  only  about  four  miles 
above  the  level  of  the  sea.* 

As  mountains  contribute  to  the  beauty  and  fertility  of  the 
earth,  so  to  drain  the  morass,  and  convert  the  quaggy  swamp 
into  a  beautiful  and.  fertile  field,  exercises  the  ingenuity  and 
employs  the  activity  of  man.  The  mountain  is  essential  to 
our  subsistence ;  the  marsh  contributes  to  the  development 
of  our  powers.  The  materials  of  subsistence  and  comfort  are 
spread  plentifully  around  us ;  but  they  do  not  drop  into  the 
lap  of  drowsy  indolence  and  lumpish  inactivity.  In  order  to 
obtain  them,  we  must  exert  our  powers  both  of  body  and 
mind.  We  must  cultivate  the  earth,  cut  down  the  forest, 
drain  the  bog,  straighten  the  water-course,  and  apply  proper 
manuie  to  the  soil.  By  the  diligent  and  skilful  exertion  of 
our  powers  and  application  of  our  means,  we  can  produce 
mighty  changes  on  every  thing  around  us,  and  make  the 
influence  of  our  operations  be  felt  even  on  those  j>arts  of 
nature  which,  at  first  sight,  seem  entirely  above  our  reach. 
We  can  in  some  measure  disarm  the  elements  of  their  rigor, 
and  improve  the  climate  as  well  as  the  soil  by  cultivation ; 
by  draining  marshes  and  lessening  evaporation,  which  carries 
off  a  quantity  of  caloric,  and  occasions  a  corresponding  de- 

*  The  Himalaj'a  mountains  liave  been  estimated  at  ?ibout  27,000  feet  j  but 
their  height  is  not  yet  well  ascertained. 


NATURAL    EVIL.  197 

gree  of  cold ;  by  turning  up  the  soil  and  exposing  it  to  the 
rays  of  the  sun ;  and  by  thinning  and  cutting  down  forests, 
which  by  their  shade  exclude  the  solar  beam  from  the  earth. 

The  barrenness  of  many  parts  of  the  earth  has  been  the 
theme  of  discontented  declamation,  and  has  been  plausibly 
urged  as  an  objection  against  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of 
Deity :  like  other  objections,  however,  it  is  deceitful,  and 
more  showy  than  solid.  Men  have  agreed  to  give  the  char- 
acter of  fertility  to  the  soils  which  are  favorable  to  the  pro- 
duction of  a  few  kinds  of  farinaceous  grains,  and  to  pronounce 
others  barren  and  unfruitful.  But  many  seeds,  plants,  and 
herbs,  require  a  peculiar  soil  and  climate  to  bring  them  to  matu- 
rity, and  the  soil  to  which  the  character  of  fertility  has  been 
attached  answers  for  a  few  only.  The  fact  has  been  known 
since  the  days  of  Theophrastus,  and  is  mentioned  in  the 
pleasing  verse  of  Virgil.  The  willow  thrives  in  a  moist  soil ; 
the  alder,  in  marshes ;  the  wild  ash,  on  the  rocky  mountain ; 
the  vine,  on  the  open  hill ;  the  yew,  in  a  moist  and  elevated 
situation.  When  mahogany  grows  in  a  barren  soil,  the  grain 
of  the  wood  is  beautifully  variegated ;  on  rich  soil,  it  is  pale, 
open,  and  of  little  value.  The  cinnamon-tree  thrives  amidst 
arid  sands.  There  are  plants  suited  to  every  soil.  Even  the 
trunks  of  trees  and  stones  are  covered  with  various  kinds  of 
liverwort. 

Grasses  are  the  most  useful,  and  also  the  most  common,  of 
all  vegetables.  They  clothe  the  mountain  and  adorn  the 
plain ;  they  vegetate  luxuriantly  within  the  tropics,  and  in 
the  summer  months  beautify  and  enrich  the  polar  regions. 
The  cereal  grasses  yield  a  rich  nutriment  to  man ;  and  many 
grasses,  which  every  where  cover  the  earth  with  spontaneous 
verdure,  afford  a  suitable  provision  to  the  brute  creation. 
Those  grasses,  herbs,  and  shrubs,  which  are  rejected  by  one 
class  of  animals,  are  greedily  eaten  by  another.  As  there  is 
a  vast  variety  of  plants,  many  of  which  require  both  a  pecu- 
liar climate  and  soil  to  bring  them  to  perfection,  so  the  wise 
and  gracious  Creator  has  provided  a  suitable  climate  and  soil 
for  plants  of  every  kind.  Animals  have  different  tastes  ;  and 
their  diffusion  over  the  earth  is  promoted  by  these  tastes,  as 
well  as  by  a  corresponding  variety  of  plants.  And  certainly 
it  is  a  matter  of  no  small  moment,  that  the  climate  which 
suits  the  constitution  of  the  animal,  also  produces  the  food 
which  to  it  is  most  palatable. 

Even  supposing  any  spot  so  barren  and  miserable  as  to  af- 
ford neither  subsistence  nor  shelter  to  any  sentient  being,  this 
would  furnish  no  other  argument  against  the  perfections  of 
17* 


19S  NATURAL    EVIL. 

Deity  than  what  would  arise  from  a  diminution  of  the  surface 
of  the  earth.  It  would  be  merely  so  much  of  the  globe  with- 
drawn from  the  immediate  use  and  service  of  living  crea- 
tures. But  we  have  no  evidence  that  any  part  of  the  earth 
is  so  withdrawn.  The  poles  are  encompassed  with  a  great 
barrier  of  ice  :  as  far,  however,  as  man  has  been  able  to  pen- 
etrate towards  them,  the  water  abounds  with  inhabitants, 
some  of  which  occasionally  repair  to  the  ice.  In  Nova  Zem- 
bla  there  is  no  human  habitation ;  but  there  foxes  and  bears 
find  a  place  of  residence  and  a  scene  of  enjoyment.  The 
ostrich  delights  in  the  burning  sandy  wilderness. 

From  the  nature  of  the  soil  and  the  inconstancy  of  the  ele- 
ments, the  crops  at  times  may  be  deficient ;  but,  in  every  case 
of  famine,  there  is  either  a  neglect  or  misapplication  of  our 
means,  and  of  our  physical  and  intellectual  powers,  or  an 
abuse  somewhere  of  free  agency ;  for,  with  diligence  and 
precaution,  even  the  chill  Icelander  may  always  secure  the 
means  of  subsistence  either  from  his  native  soil  and  circum- 
ambient seas,  or  by  commercial  intercourse  with  foreign 
lands.  And  even  within  the  tropics,  and  in  the  most  fertile 
regions,  when  industry  lifts  a  palsied  hand  and  cultivation  is 
neglected,  scarcity  and  famine  are  not  unknown.  When  the 
distant  supplies  which  prudence  and  industry  have  provided 
are  intercepted  by  hostile  violence,  there  is  an  abuse  of  free 
agency  ;  and,  in  a  system  carried  on  by  the  operation  of  gen- 
eral laws,  this  abuse  at  times  may  be  severely  felt  even  by 
the  harmless  and  unoffending. 

Some  have  complained  of  poisonous  herbs  and  minerals. 
Poison,  however,  is  merely  a  relative  term.  No  plant,  I  be- 
lieve, is  absolutely  destructive  of  animal  life.  Those  vege- 
tables which  are  disagreeable  or  poisonous  to  one  class  of 
living  creatures,  are  grateful  and  nourishing  to  another.  The 
horse  gives  up  the  common  water  hemlock  to  the  goat ;  the 
goat  leaves  monkshood  to  the  horse.  Even  wormwood  and 
the  acrid  spurge  yield  an  agreeable  repast  to  some  kinds  of 
insects.  The  inferior  animals  are  guarded  against  danger 
from  what  they  eat  by  an  instinctive  delicacy  of  smell  and 
taste.  Man,  at  least  after  he  has  acquired  an  artificial  taste 
by  means  of  cookery,  must  exercise  vigilance  and  sagacity  ; 
although  his  smell  and  taste,  unless  greatly  perverted,  will 
seldom  or  never  mislead  him.  Even  from  those  vegetables 
which  are  most  destructive  of  human  life,  we  can  extract  a 
salutary  nutriment  or  a  healing  virtue. 

Some  plants  we  can  disarm  of  their  poisonous  qualities, 
and  convert  into  materials  of  wholesome  aliment.     The  bit- 


NATURAL    EVIL.  199 

ter  jatropha  is  an  active  poison.  The  natives  of  Haiti,  who 
preferred  death  to  involuntary  labor,  killed  themselves  by 
fifties  with  swallowing  the  raw  juice  of  the  plant.  But  even 
the  juice  of  the  bitter  jatropha  is  rendered  harmless  by  boiling 
and  skimming,  and  is  then  used  without  danger  as  a  sauce. 
The  root  is  also  baked  into  bread  ;  but,  in  order  to  deprive  it 
of  its  noxious  qualities,  it  must  be  grated  down  and  com- 
pressed. The  empyreumatic  oil  of  tobacco  is  an  active  poi- 
son. But  tobacco  in  a  variety  of  ways  is  advantageously 
used.  It  is  even  employed  as  a  remedy  against  other  poi- 
sons. "  The  Caraibs,"  *  says  Humboldt,t  "  used  mashed 
tobacco  leaves  as  a  counter  poison.  In  our  journey  on  the 
Orinoco,  we  saw  mashed  tobacco  successfully  applied  to  the 
bite  of  venomous  serpents."  Foxglove,  hemlock,  poppy, 
and  other  similar  plants,  have  each  medicinal  virtues. 

We  may  remark,  that  different  parts  of  the  same  plant,  in 
many  instances,  have  different  qualities  ;  and  the  same  may 
be  said  of  plants  in  their  different  stages.  Different  plants 
elaborate  different  juices  from  the  same  soil ;  and  differ- 
ent animals  elaborate  different  substances  from  the  same 
plant.  Bees  form  honey  from  thyme  and  roses ;  and  from 
the  same  plant  spiders  draw  a  poison.  From  vegetables,  in- 
nocuous and  agreeable,  a  deleterious  substance  may  be  ex- 
tracted. The  laurel  is  pleasing,  the  almond  beautiful  and 
nutritive  ;  but  the  laurel  and  the  bitter  almond  yield  most 
powerful  poisons. 

Minerals  do  not  constitute  any  part  of  human  food,  but 
they  are  of  vast  importance  in  the  arts ;  and  their  value  in 
the  arts  not  unfrequently  depends  on  those  very  qualities 
which  render  them  destructive  when  taken  into  the  stomach. 
Only  a  few  are  poisonous  ;  and  most,  or  all,  even  of  these, 
are  serviceable  in  medicine.  Arsenic  itself  is  employed  with 
advantage  in  the  healing  art.  In  short,  the  constitution  of 
the  vegetable  and  mineral  kingdoms,  like  every  thing  else  in 
the  world,  is  adapted  to  the  rational,  active,  and  progressive 
nature  of  man.  The  existence  of  poisonous  substances  serves 
to  awaken  his  vigilance,  and  exercise  his  sagacity  ;  and  we 
may  safely  conclude,  that  there  are  neither  plants  nor  mine- 
rals but  what  have  been,  or  may  be,  turned  to  his  advantage. 
The  discovery  of  their  qualities  and  uses  exercises  his  inge- 

A  tribe  of  the  aborigines  of  some  of  the  Caribbee  Islands — a  ferocious  and 
invincible  race. 

t  A  scientific  and  adventurous  traveller.  The  Voyage  of  Humboldt  and 
Bonpland,  published  in  1810  (12  vols.  4to.),  is  a  work  of  great  extent  and  rich- 
ness, to  which  the  modern  literature  of  Europe  cjui  hardly  offer  a  parallel. 


200  NATURAL    EVIL. 

nuity  ;  the  application  of  them  administers  to  his  comfort, 
and  diversifies  his  enjoyments.  The  discoveries  which  may 
yet  be  nrrade  in  the  progress  of  science,  and  the  consequent 
advantages,  we  are  unable  to  anticipate. 

On  the  surface  of  the  earth  there  are  very  different  climates; 
and  if  it  could  be  demonstrated  that  this  could  originate  in 
nothing  but  a  defect  of  power,  wisdom,  or  goodness,  then  we 
would  be  compelled  to  admit  that  such  defect  adhered  to  the 
Author  of  the  system  ;  for  difference  of  climate  is  part  of  the 
plan  in  the  constitution  of  our  globe.  Towards  the  equator 
the  heat  is  always  considerable,  except  at  great  heights  above 
the  level  of  the  sea  :  as  we  approach  the  poles,  generally 
speaking,  the  cold  increases.  The  climate  of  a  country, 
however,  does  not  depend  altogether  on  its  latitude,  but  also 
on  its  elevation  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  its  contiguity  to 
the  ocean,  the  configuration  of  the  land,  and  a  number  of 
other  local  circumstances.  The  temperature  of  the  earth  va- 
ries from  about  100°  to  — 40°  Fahrenheit :  the  mean  temper- 
ature for  the  whole  surface  may  be  estimated  at  5S°  :  the 
greatest  summer  heat  is  only  about  42°  above  this :  the 
greatest  winter  cold  is  about  9S°  under  it.  The  temperature 
of  man  is  about  96°,  and  is  nearly  the  same  in  summer  and 
winter,  in  an  inhabitant  of  the  torrid,  and  in  one  of  the  frigid 
zone.  The  temperature  of  the  human  body  is  much  above 
that  of  the  surrounding  medium. 

In  the  different  climates  there  is  no  defect  either  of  wisdom 
or  goodness :  they  exhibit  a  display  of  those  attributes  by 
opening  a  field  of  enjoyment  to  a  greater  variety  of  sentient 
beings.  Both  in  the  sea  and  on  the  dry  land  there  are  ani- 
mals peculiar  to  certain  climates.  Some  fishes  are  found 
chiefly  within  the  tropics;  others  have  their  residence  in  po- 
lar regions.  A  similar  economy  prevails  on  the  dry  land. 
Many  animals,  such  as  the  monkey  and  the  elephant,  are  na- 
tives of  warm  climates,  and  there  they  find  that  sort  of  pro- 
vision for  which  they  have  the  greatest  relish  :  others,  such 
as  the  rein-deer,  delight  in  high  latitudes ;  and  there  they 
find  the  food  which  to  them  is  most  palatable. 

While  many  of  the  inferior  animals  are  fitted,  by  their  pe- 
culiar constitution,  for  living  comfortably  in  one  climate  only, 
man  is  endowed  with  a  flexibility  of  organization  which  ena- 
bles him  to  bear  the  temperature  of  every  country.  He  can 
accommodate  his  dress  to  the  climate,  and  can  live,  perhaps 
with  equal  degrees  of  happiness,  in  every  parallel  of  latitude 
between  Cape  Horn  and  Greenland.  Every  where  his  intel- 
lectual and  moral  nature  is  equally  susceptible  of  improve- 


NATURAL    EVIL.  201 

ment.  The  Icelander,  touching  the  Arctic  circle,  is  as  in- 
telligent, virtuous,  and  happy,  as  the  native  of  any  country 
between  the  tropics. 

Man  is  so  constituted,  that  habit  produces  great  effects 
both  on  his  body  and  mind  ;  fortifying  the  one  against  fatigue 
and  privations,  the  rigor  of  the  seasons,  and  the  most  rapid 
transitions  from  one  degree  of  temperature  to  another ;  and 
not  only  reconciling  the  other  to  various  modes  of  life,  but 
even  rendering  these  agreeable  and  pleasant.  The  Finlander 
amuses  himself,  for  half  an  hour  or  an  hour,  in  a  bath  heated 
to  150°  or  160°  P^'ahr. ;  and  frequently  goes  naked  out  of  the 
bath  to  roll  himself  among  the  snow,  when  the  mercury 
stands  at  20°  below  the  freezing  point.  From  this  great  and 
sudden  transition  he  receives  no  injury.  It  has  been  found 
that  persons  accustomed  to  attend  an  oven,  have  borne  for 
ten  minutes  a  heat  equal  to  280°  Fahr.  In  common  cases, 
suffocation  begins  to  takes  place  in  about  half  a  minute  after 
the  body  is  submersed  in  water ;  but  the  divers  in  the  pearl 
fishery  can  remain  under  water  five  minutes,  almost  as  long 
as  the  seal,  porpoise,  and  amphibia.  The  dexterity  of  the 
South  Sea  Islanders  in  swimming  is  well  known. 

We  are  apt  to  set  up  our  adventitious  tastes  and  habits, 
sentiments  and  employments,  as  the  standard  of  excellence 
and  measure  of  comfort,  and  to  imagine  that  those  things 
only,  which  are  sources  of  enjoyment  to  us,  can  yield  satis- 
faction and  happiness  to  others ;  and  that  what  is  disagree- 
able or  painful  tons,  must  be  equally  so  to  all  our  fellow  men. 
The  native  of  a  tropical  country  may  imagine  that  the  inhab- 
itants of  polar  regions  are  a  torpid,  hungry,  and  miserable 
race ;  but  they  who  dwell  in  high  latitudes  are  not  less  ac- 
tive, cheerful,  or  vigorous,  than  they  who  bask  in  the  rays 
of  a  vertical  sun.  The  delicate  European  may  shudder  on 
seeing  the  Esquimaux  or  Kamtschadale  feasting  on  putrid 
fish  and  rancid  oil  ;  but  the  Esquimaux  or  Kamtschadale 
would  spit  out  with  disgust  the  choicest  viands  of  the  Euro- 
pean epicure.  A  Laplander  can  form  no  conception  of  the 
wealth  of  a  man  who  does  not  possess  a  single  rein-deer ; 
and  pities  him  who  never  feasts  on  the  flesh  of  the  bear,  nor 
drinks  the  oil  of  the  seal  or  the  whale.  A  Turk  imagines 
that  the  enjoyment  of  a  man  who  does  not  smoke  cannot  be 
greater  than  that  of  a  beast.  A  man  in  clothes  appears  as 
ridiculous  to  an  Indian  of  California,  as  a  monkey  dressed  in 
human  apparel  does  to  the  common  people  of  Europe. 

Notwithstanding  all  the  differences  of  climate,  almost  ev« 
ery  individual,  from  habit  and  sentiment,  is  disposed  to  give 


202  NATURAL    EVIL. 

a  preference  to  his  native  land.  The  Greenlander  will  not 
abandon  his  icj'  coasts,  and  the  management  of  his  frail  ka- 
jak,  for  any  other  country  or  employment.  To  the  Icelander 
no  other  epot  on  the  globe  has  such  charms  as  Iceland.  The 
Kamtschadale  in  his  jourt,  surrounded  by  deserts  and  tem- 
pests, believes  his  native  land  to  be  the  most  eligible  part  of 
the  earth,  and  considers  himself  the  most  fortunate  and  happy 
of  human  beings.  The  Laplander,  in  the  midst  of  mountains 
and  storms,  enjoys  good  health,  often  reaches  old  age,  and 
would  not  exchange  Lapland  for  the  palace  of  a  king.  The 
native  of  Congo  believes  that  every  other  part  of  the  world 
was  formed  by  angels ;  but  that  the  kingdom  of  Congo  was 
the  workmanship  of  the  Supreme  Architect,  and  must  there- 
fore have  prerogatives  and  advantages  above  the  rest  of  the 
earth.  Although  every  other  tie  were  broken,  the  dust  of 
their  fathers  would  bind  most  men  to  their  native  land.  Let 
not  the  cold  skeptic  deride  the  thought.  The  native  of  Asia 
frequenting  the  tomb  of  his  ancestors,  or  the  afflicted  wan- 
derer of  the  American  wilderness  piously  pulling  the  grass 
from  the  grave  of  a  departed  relative,  will  awaken  sympa- 
thetic emotions  in  every  ingenuous  and  affectionate  mind. 

In  the  attachment  to  country  we  have  an  auxiliary  to  our 
social  affections,  and  a  bond  for  uniting  men  in  large  com- 
munities. But  the  attachment  is  not  so  strong  as  entirely  to 
prevent  dispersion,  or  hinder  migration  to  unsettled  countries 
by  an  oppressed  or  overflowing  population.  As  men,  gen- 
erally in  every  climate,  are  pleased  with  their  country,  and 
love  it  above  every  other,  so  in  every  stage  of  society  they 
give  the  preference  to  those  modes  of  life  to  which  they  have 
been  accustomed.  Hence  changes  and  improvements  in  the 
economy  and  intercourse  of  any  people  are  the  result  of  a  slow 
and  gradual  progress.  Although  men  may  be  well  pleased 
with  their  several  circumstances,  yet  we  must  never  forget 
that  the  most  exalted  enjoyment  of  the  rational  being  flows 
from  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  and  the  practice  of  virtue. 

It  thus  appears,  that  we  need  not  be  forward  in  affecting  to 
commiserate  the  destiny  of  those  who  are  placed  in  circum- 
stances different  from  our  own.  Their  habits  and  sentiments 
are  accommodated  to  their  condition,  and  they  would  not  ex- 
change situations  with  us.  As  to  climate,  we  are  by  no  means 
to  imagine  that  tropical  countries  are  perpetually  scorched  by 
an  unclouded  sun  ;  or  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  polar  circle, 
in  winter,  are  buried  in  total  darkness.  Captain  Cook  informs 
us,  that  in  general  the  tropical  regions  seldom  enjoy  that  clear 
atmosphere  observable  where  variable  winds  blow,  nor  does 


NATURAL    EVIL.  203 

the  sun  shine  with  such  brightness.  A  dull  whiteness,  that 
seems  a  medium  between  fog  and  clouds,  for  the  most  part, 
prevails  in  the  sky.  This  is  an  advantage ;  for  otherwise, 
the  probability  is,  that  the  rays  of  the  sun  being  uninterrupted 
would  render  the  heat  insupportable.  The  nights,  neverthe- 
less, are  often  clear  and  serene. 

On  the  other  hand,  in  high  latitudes,  although  the  sun  be 
withdrawn,  yet  the  inhabitants  are  not  enveloped  in  com- 
plete darkness.  At  Spitzbergen,  a  sort  of  twilight,  the  splen- 
dor of  the  Aurora  Borealis,  the  stars,  and  the  reflection  of  the 
snow,  serve  to  light  the  hunters  on  their  excursions,  and  ena- 
ble them  to  continue  the  chase  during  the  long  night  of  a 
hyperborean  winter.  Hearne  tells  us,  that  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  Athapuscow  lake,  in  the  middle  of  December,  the  bril- 
liancy of  the  Aurora  Borealis  and  the  stars,  even  without  the 
assistance  of  the  moon,  made  it  frequently  so  clear  all  night, 
that  he  could  see  to  read  a  very  small  print.  The  Indians 
make  no  difference  between  night  and  day  when  hunting  the 
beaver.  It  may  be  added,  that  the  annual  distribution  of  heat 
over  the  surface  of  the  earth  is  by  no  means  so  unequal  as 
many  persons  are  apt  to  imagine.  The  seasons  give  occasion 
to  different  employments,  according  to  the  climate  and  the 
nature  of  the  country  ;  they  also  relieve  insipid  uniformity, 
and  give  variety  to  the  appearances  of  the  world,  and  to  the 
pursuits  of  man. 

Thus,  from  the  physical  constitution  of  the  globe,  its  water 
and  dry  land,  its  mountains  and  valleys,  its  different  soils  and 
different  climates,  there  is  no  argument  against  the  perfec- 
tions of  Deity ;  for  on  the  greater  part  of  the  earth  man  can 
subsist,  and  that  with  equal  degrees  of  happmess.  Where 
man  does  not  or  cannot  subsist,  other  sentient  beings  find  a 
place  of  residence,  and  a  scene  of  enjoyment  suited  to  their 
natures.  No  part  of  it  is  void  of  animal  existence.  If  there 
be  any  argument,  drawn  from  any  part  of  the  earth,  against 
the  divine  attributes,  it  must  equally  apply  to  every  part ;  and, 
if  it  be  admitted  that  any  part  of  it  exhibits  indications  of 
wisdom  and  goodness,  the  admission  must  be  extended  to  the 
whole.  The  earth  is  truly  a  convenient  and  pleasant  habita- 
tion for  man  and  other  living  creatures,  and  bears  abundant 
testimony  to  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  Creator. 

It  may  be  pleaded,  that  mankind  at  times  are  afflicted  by 
ungenial  seasons,  scanty  crops,  and  consequent  famine  ;  and 
that  earthquakes,  hurricanes,  and  inundations,  overthrow  the 
works,  disappoint  the  hopes,  and  destroy  the  enjoyments  or 
the  life  of  man.     That,  to  a  certain  extent,  these  things  occa- 


S04  NATURAL    EVIL. 

sionally  happen,  must  be  admitted ;  that  they  constitute  a  diffi- 
culty, and  may  be  alleged  as  an  objection  against  the  attri- 
butes of  Deity,  need  not  be  denied.  But  here,  as  in  other  in- 
stances of  the  same  kind,  the  difficulty  arises  entirely  from 
our  ignorance  ;  and  in  proportion  as  knowledge  increases,  the 
difficulty  will  disappear.  I  meet  the  objection  with  these  ob- 
servations— that  the  w^orld  is  governed  by  general  laws ;  and 
that  this  constitution  of  things  is  adapted  to  the  nature  and 
condition  of  man,  as  an  intelligent  and  active  being,  in  a  state 
of  trial  and  discipline,  whose  capacities  must  be  unfolded, 
and  his  virtues  improved  by  trial  and  exercise. 

All  the  phenomena  prove  that  the  world  is  governed  by 
general  laws.  Although  these  laws  be  wise  and  good,  yet 
they  may  sometimes  interfere,  and  by  their  interference  pro- 
duce partial  evils.  For  example,  the  laws  of  gravitation,  of 
the  equilibrium  of  fluids,  and  of  the  disturbance  of  that  equi- 
librium by  heat,  are  formed  and  arranged  by  wisdom  and 
goodness ;  but  in  the  administration  of  these  laws,  such  a 
concurrence  of  circumstances  may  sometimes  happen  as  to 
produce  partial  evils.  High  winds  arising  from  the  disturb- 
ance of  the  equilibrium  of  the  aerial  fluid  by  heat,  may  co- 
operate with  the  action  of  the  sun  and  moon,  and  occasion 
remarkably  high  tides.  The  combinations  of  the  same  gen- 
eral laws  may  produce  tempestuous  commotions  in  the  at- 
mosphere, causing  partial  evils.  There  is  reason,  however,  to 
believe  that  even  these  tempestuous  commotions  are  subservi- 
ent to  general  good.  The  storm  that  commixes  the  atmosphere 
and  the  ocean  is,  probably,  one  grand  means  of  purifying  the 
air  contaminated  by  respiration,  vegetation  and  combustion. 
The  effect  of  general  laws  may  be  partial  evil ;  but  it  unques- 
tionably is  general  good.  There  are  no  general  laws,  either 
in  the  natural  or  moral  world,  that  are  more  injurious  than 
advantageous. 

It  may  be  said,  Why  is  not  the  good  produced  without  the 
evil  ?  Why  are  not  the  general  laws  so  constituted,  as  to 
yield  all  the  advantages  which  we  derive  from  them  without 
any  of  the  disadvantages?  Or,  if  they  cannot  be  so  consti- 
tuted, why  are  not  the  disadvantages  prevented  by  special  in- 
terpositions? That  the  world  should  be  governed  by  general 
laws  is  not  only  proper,  but  indispensably  requisite,  in  order 
to  the  regulation  of  human  conduct.  If  there  were  no  general 
laws,  man  would  be  the  sport  of  irregular  occurrences,  and 
wholly  at  a  loss  how  to  act.  He  would  be  suddenly  defeated 
in  all  his  undertakings,  and  reason  would  be  of  no  avail  for 
the  direction  of  his  sleps.     If  the  sun  rose  and  set  at  irregu- 


NAI^URAL    EVIL.  205 

rat  and  uncertain  periods  ;  if  the  return  of  the  seasons  were  at 
variable  and  unknown  intervals;  if  the  tides  followed  no  reg- 
ular course,  man  would  be  obliged  to  act  at  random,  and  would 
be  tossed  to  and  fro  by  circumstances  which  he  could  neither 
foresee  nor  prevent.  But  general  laws  every  where  obtain  ; 
and  man  can  observe  them,  and  act  accordingly.  They  serve 
as  beacons  for  the  direction  of  his  course,  and  he  can  use 
them  almost  every  moment  in  the  voyage  of  life.  Whether 
general  laws  could  be  so  framed  as  to  produce  all  the  good 
effects  which  we  derive  from  them,  without  any  of  the  evils, 
we  know  not,  nor  is  it  needful  to  institute  any  inquiry  on  the 
subject ;  for  although  it  were  possible  that  they  could  be  so 
constituted,  yet  such  a  constitution  would  be  improper;  and 
it  would  be  equally  improper  to  prevent  the  partial  evils  by 
special  interpositions. 

If  man  were  exposed  to  no  danger;  if  at  all  times  he  w^ere 
secure  from  want,  and  disappointment,  and  pain,  he  would  be 
a  careless,  lazy,  stupid,  and  unhappy  animal.  Place  the  hu- 
man being,  constituted  as  he  is,  in  a  situation  where  exertion 
"would  be  either  useless  or  needless,  where  the  difficulties 
were  insuperable,  or  where  every  object  of  desire  spontane- 
ously flowed  in  upon  him,  and  he  would  be  miserable.  If  the 
course  of  things  were  invariably  accommodated  to  our  wants 
and  desires  ;  if,  either  by  general  laws  or  special  interpo- 
sitions, every  evil  were  infallibly  prevented  and  every  good 
thing  secured,  then  prudence  and  industry  would  be  alto- 
gether useless.  There  would  be  no  room  for  human  skill, 
and  no  motive  to  human  action.  There  could  be  no  display 
of  skill  where  every  object  of  desire  was  certainly  obtained 
without  it ;  and  no  motive  to  action  where  nothing  could  be 
gained  by  foresight  and  industry,  and  nothing  lost  by  inat- 
tention and  sloth. 

A  state  where  dangers  are  to  be  provided  against  and 
averted  by  foresight,  caution,  and  vigilance;  where  wants 
are  to  be  supplied  by  industry  and  prudence ;  enjoyments 
procured  by  diligence  and  ingenuity  ;  difficulties  encountered, 
and  trials  borne,  with  courage,  fortitude,  and  patience  ;  where 
there  is  still  something  to  excite  desire,  cherish  hope,  and 
stimulate  and  reward  exertion  ;  such  a  state  accords  with  the 
constitution  of  the  human  being,  and  is  calculated  both  for  his 
improvement  and  happiness.  Such  is  the  state  of  this  world  ; 
fitted  to  rouse  our  energies,  to  animate  our  activity,  and  to 
reward  persevering  industry.  Whenever,  to  any  individual, 
the  world  ceases  to  be  such  a  state,  life  stagnates,  enjoyment 
flies  away,  and  the  consciousness  of  existence  becomes  a  bur- 
18 


206  NATURAL    EVIL. 

den.  Now,  tempests  and  floods,  and  other  partial  evils  re- 
sulting from  the  operation  of  general  laws,  are  means  of  exer- 
cising and  improving  our  faculties,  of  giving  scope  to  pru- 
dence, fortitude,  and  activity,  and  thus  promoting  our  happi- 
ness. Besides  being  suited  to  our  rational  and  active  nature, 
there  is  reason  to  believe  that  those  phenomena  which  occa- 
sion partial  evils  are  productive  of  great  general  benefit  in 
the  economy  of  the  world.  But  here  our  ignorance  inter- 
venes, and  in  a  great  measure  prevents  us  from  tracing  the 
steps  of  the  Creator  in  his  government. 

2.  The  nature  of  some  of  the  inferior  animals. 

It  is  not  against  the  inanimate  parts  of  the  world  only  that 
the  objections  of  the  skeptic  have  been  directed  :  different 
departments  of  animated  nature  have  furnished  him  with 
materials  of  querimonious  declamation.  "  AVhy  are  we  in- 
fested with  such  multitudes  of  ferocious  and  venomous  ani- 
mals, which  endanger  the  safety,  and  often  destroy  the  life  of 
man  ?  Why  does  the  earth  abound  with  useless  and  noxious 
creatures ;  with  myriads  of  insects,  which  frequently  coun- 
teract our  labors,  destroy  the  fruit  of  our  industry,  torment 
our  persons,  and  devour  the  means  of  our  subsistence?" 
With  respect  to  declamation  of  this  kind,  it  may  be  observed, 
that  nothing  is  more  common  than  to  take  certain  principles 
for  granted,  and  to  reason  from  those  gratuitous  assumptions 
as  if  they  were  incontrovertible  truths,  although  not  a  word 
has  been  said  in  proof  of  them.  If  any  phenomena  do  not 
obviously  and  exactly  agree  with  those  assumed  principles 
and  preconceived  notions,  the  persons  who  have  embraced 
them  murmur  and  complain,  as  if  disorder  reigned  in  the  uni- 
verse, and  as  if  the  vestiges  of  goodness  were  buried  under 
the  rubbish  of  irregularity  and  imperfection. 

Some  persons,  resembling  the  Ouadelim  Arabs,  who  fancy 
that  the  sun  rises  for  them  only,  have  ambitiously  assumed 
that  not  this  earth  merely,  but  all  the  splendid  luminaries  of 
the  firmament  also,  were  formed  solely  for  the  accommoda- 
tion and  comfort  of  man.  On  this  proud  assumption  they 
may  wonder  why  there  is  such  a  vast  apparatus  of  planets 
and  fixed  stars,  which  by  their  feeble  light  impart  such  incon- 
siderable advantages  to  the  earth.  But  the  moment  that  we 
think  of  numerous  orders  of  intelligent  beings  stationed  in  the 
different  provinces  of  the  universe,  and  inhabiting  worlds 
suited  to  their  different  organizations  and  faculties,  the  mis- 
conception and  the  difficulty  pass  away.  Others,  more  mod- 
est in  their  pretensions,  claim  for  man  this  lower  world 
only,  with    the    common  advantages  of  the    system.     This 


NATURAL    EVIL  207 

claim  they  seem  to  advance  for  him  exclusively,  and  to  sup- 
pose that  the  world  should  furnish  a  scene  of  enjoyment  to 
him  alone,  while  no  other  creature  should  partake  of  the  rich 
feast  provided  by  the  bountiful  Creator,  but  in  subserviency 
to  man's  pleasure  and  gratification.  This  assumption  is 
equally  gratuitous  and  false  with  the  former,  although  not  to 
the  same  extent.  Man,  indeed,  is  the  noblest  inhabitant  of 
this  world,  and  has  dominion  over  the  inferior  animals :  but 
to  them  as  well  as  to  him  the  Creator  has  given  a  charter  to 
inhabit  the  earth,  and  there  to  enjoy  a  scene  of  happiness 
suited  to  their  natures.  In  some  instances,  it  may  be  from 
invading  those  parts  of  the  globe  which  the  sovereign  Distrib- 
utor of  the  earth  has  allotted  to  them  as  their  domain,  that 
man  exposes  himself  to  their  vengeance. 

The  relations  and  dependencies  of  the  different  orders  of 
sentient  beings  we  at  present  do  not  fully  comprehend.  Per- 
haps a  certain  concatenation  runs  through  the  whole  extent 
of  animated  nature,  the  lowest  order  of  sentient  creatures  be- 
ing closely  connected  with  inorganic  or  vegetable  matter, 
and,  in  the  ascending  series,  every  order  joined  to  that  which 
is  immediately  above  it,  till  the  highest  is  linked  to  the  throne 
of  the  Creator  ;  or  some  gradation  and  concatenation  of  this 
kind  may  obtain  among  the  innumerable  worlds  stationed  in 
the  immensity  of  space.  Such  speculations  are  above  our 
reach.  We  do  not  understand  all  the  relations  and  depen- 
dencies of  animated  nature  even  in  our  own  world.  If  one 
class  of  sentient  beings,  which  we  think  the  most  useless  or 
noxious,  were  removed,  this  would  perhaps  pave  the  way  for 
the  destruction  of  a  second ;  the  destruction  of  the  second 
might  ensure  the  extinction  of  a  third  ;  so  that  we  are  unable 
to  calculate  what  might  be  the  consequences  of  withdrawing 
any  one  species  of  living  creatures  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 

The  Creator  may  surely,  in  a  consistency  with  wisdom 
and  goodness,  make  provision  in  the  same  world  for  different 
orders  of  sentient  beings.  And,  if  he  do  so,  he  may,  like- 
wise, in  a  consistency  with  the  same  perfections,  place  in  that 
world  the  several  orders  of  beings  for  whom  he  has  made 
provision,  if  the  happiness  of  one  order  do  not  interfere  with 
that  of  another,  or  if  the  interference,  like  general  laws,  pro- 
duce general  good,  and  only  partial  evil.  If  this  principle  be 
admitted,  which  I  think  it  may,  it  will  go  far  to  vindicate  the 
ways  of  God  with  respect  to  the  sentient  inhabitants  of  this 
globe.  If  the  earth  were  overrun  with  rattlesnakes  ;  if  lions 
and  tigers  lay  in  ambush  in  every  thicket ;  this  would  cer- 
tainly be  too  much  for  the  precaution,  the  vigilance,  and  the 


^8  NATURAL    EViL* 

activity  of  man.  It  would  overpower  instead  of  exercising 
his  faculties ;  it  would  destroy  his  happiness,  instead  of  pro- 
moting his  improvement.  But  ferocious  and  venomous  ani- 
mals are  thinly  scattered  over  the  globe.  Elephants  and 
buffaloes  feed  in  great  herds  ;  but  lions  and  tigers,  like  rob- 
bers, are  few  in  number,  and  lead  a  solitary  life.  There  are 
multitudes  of  the  serpent  kind,  but  only  a  few  are  venomous. 
Their  fangs  are  excretory  ducts  connected  with  the  poison- 
bag  ;  and  the  very  action  of  the  jaws  which  inflicts  the 
wound  mechanically  injects  the  poison  into  it.  These  few 
are  a  protection  to  all  the  serpent  kind.   [PL  XIV.  fig.  4,  5.] 

The  Creator  has  implanted  in  every  living  creature  the 
desire  of  self-preservation,  and  has  also  bestowed  upon  each 
of  them  some  means  of  security  and  defence  in  aid  of  this 
desire.  The  defensive  weapons  of  some  animals  are  far  more 
formidable  than  those  of  others.  The  fang  of  the  serpent 
and  the  tooth  and  paw  of  the  lion  are  instruments  of  defence 
or  offence,  like  the  horn  of  the  bull  or  the  hoof  of  the  horse  : 
they  are  more  terrible  toothers,  but  they  are  beneficial  to  the 
animals  themselves.  Instruments  of  defence  are  as  needful 
to  the  animal  as  means  of  procuring  food.  Indeed,  these 
often  run  into  each  other  :  in  many  instances  the  same  or- 
ganization is  employed  for  both  purposes.  If  any  instrument 
of  defence  be  unobjectionable;  if  we  admit  the  tooth  of  the 
dog  and  the  hoof  of  the  horse  to  be  consistent  with  wisdom 
and  goodness,  then  our  objections  against  the  paw  of  the  lion 
and  the  fang  of  the  viper  can  be  of  no  great  weight.  In  both 
we  find  weapons  of  defence ;  there  is  merely  a  difference  in 
the  degree  of  force.  If,  in  the  one  case,  the  weapon  is  more 
formidable,  it  is  a  more  sure  protection  to  the  animal,  and 
a  motive  to  greater  caution  in  awakening  its  anger.  The 
venomous  tribes  serve  to  arouse  the  vigilance  and  exercise 
the  ingenuity  of  man  in  avoiding  their  bite,  or  in  expelling  or 
neutralizing  their  poison.  In  this  way  they  contribute  to  the 
development  of  our  powers,  by  presenting  difliculties  and 
dangers  which  are  not  overwhelming,  but  which  serve  to 
awaken  activity  and  quicken  ingenuity. 

Man  must  be  careful,  vigilant,  and  active  in  cultivating  the 
earth,  in  clearing  it  of  weeds,  and  in  superintending  the 
growth  of  his  crops.  He  must  exercise  a  similar  care,  vigi- 
lance, and  activity,  in  avoiding  the  tooth  of  the  serpent  and 
the  paw  of  the  lion.  These  and  similar  animals  are,  for  the 
most  part,  natives  of  climates  where  nature  dispenses  her 
treasures  with  rich  profusion ;  and  therefore,  if  the  faculties 
of  man  be  not  expanded  in  soliciting  the  earth  for  subsistence, 


NATURAL    EVIL  209 

they  find  a  certain  degree  of  exercise  in  watching  and  pro- 
viding against  surrounding  dangers.  Besides,  venomous  and 
ferocious  animals,  which  are  comparatively  few  in  number, 
teach  us  duly  to  value  the  inoffensive  kinds.  It  is  by  con- 
trast chiefly  that  we  learn  the  worth  of  our  enjoyments.  If 
the  stream  of  felicity  flowed  without  mixture  and  without  in- 
terruption, it  would  cloy  the  appetite.  Some  bitter  ingre- 
dient must  be  cast  into  our  cup  to  make  us  relish  what  is 
sweet.  We  are  more  sensible  of  the  beauties  of  a  fine  day 
after  experiencing  a  tempest.  The  barren  wilderness  illus- 
trates the  value  of  the  fertile  field  ;  and,  in  like  manner,  the 
ferocity  of  the  tiger  may  teach  us  duly  to  estimate  the  meek- 
ness of  the  lamb  ;  and  the  envenomed  tooth  of  the  cohra  ca- 
pella,  to  value  the  innocuous  qualities  of  the  frog. 

It  has  been  remarked,  that  throughout  nature  things  which 
have  a  relation  to  each  other  for  the  advantage  of  man  are 
found  together.  Thus,  mines  of  gold  and  silver  abound  in 
South  America  ;  and  mercury,  which  is  used  in  separating 
these  metals  from  their  ores,  is  also  found  there.  Coal, 
which  is  so  useful  in  smelting  iron  ore,  is  found  along  with 
it.  Compensations,  in  like  manner,  accompany  what  is  nox- 
ious. Travellers  often  fall  ill  of  nervous  fevers  on  the  road 
between  Caraccas  and  Cumana ;  but  the  valley  and  forests 
that  emit  the  dangerous  exhalations  which  occasion  these 
fevers,  also  produce  a  tree,  the  bark  of  which  furnishes  a 
salutary  remedy  for  the  disease.  Where  there  are  many 
venomous  reptiles,  there  the  herbs  which  are  the  most  certain 
antidote  to  their  poison  are  found  in  the  greatest  plenty.  If 
dangerous  serpents  abound  in  intratropical  America,  there 
the  hahilla  de  Carthagena  grows,  by  eating  a  little  of  which, 
fasting,  the  hunters  in  their  excursions  in  the  woods  fortify 
themselves  against  the  bite  of  the  rattlesnake  itself.* 

*  Ulloa,  Voyag-e  Historique,  &c.,  liv.  i.  c.  6,  &  liv.  vi.  c.  10.— The  habilla 
de  Carthagena  is  a  sort  of  bean  which  grows  on  a  kind  of  willow.  It  is  about 
an  inch  broad,  nine  lines  long-,  flat,  and  heart-shaped.  It  is  of  an  extremely 
hot  nature,  and  an  ordinary  dose  is  less  than  the  fourth  part  of  a  bean  or  kernel. 
For  an  account  of  the  rattlesnake  herb,  by  which  the  natives  of  Louisiana  heal 
the  bite  of  that  snake,  see  Le  Page  de  Pratz,  History  of  Louisiana,  vol.  ii.  pp. 
43—73,  English  translation.— Ca/-i-er'5  Travels,  p.  482. 

Horses,  cows,  dogs,  and  fowls,  seem  to  have  an  innate  sense  of  their  danger 
from  snakes,  and  show  evident  symptoms  of  fear  in  approaching-  them,  even 
when  dead ;  but  hogs,  so  far  from  being  afraid  of  them,  pursue  and  devour  them 
with  the  greatest  avidity,  totally  regardless  of  their  bites. — Carver's  Travels,  p. 
483.  WelcVs  Travels,  vol.  i.  pp.  202-3.  Hesychius  of  Miletus  informs  us 
that  Neptune  employed  storks  to  exterminate  serpents  from  the  island  of  Tine, 
in  the  Grecian  Archipelago. — Tournefort,  Voyage,  tom.  i.  p.  258.  Virg.  ^n. 
x'l.  751.     Juvenal,  xiv.  74".     Hor.  Car.  lib.  iv.    "Od.  iv.  1. 11.     Iliad,  xii.  201. 

Captain  Seely,  in  his  ''  Wonders  of  EUora,"  p.  452,  second  edition,  speaks 

18* 


210 


NATURAL    EVIL 


To  some  persons,  those  animals  which  in  general  estima-* 
tion  have  a  most  disgusting  appearance  furnish  an  agreeable 
article  of  food.  Depons*  informs  us  that,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Lake  Tacarigua,  in  South  America,  the  Indians  and  some 
of  the  Spaniards  make  their  most  delicious  meal  on  the 
iguana,  a  kind  of  lizard  of  a  greenish  color,  and  about  two 
feet  and  a  half  long.  This  to  persons  unaccustomed  to  it 
would  form  a  most  loathsome  dish.  Dr.  Shawt  was  told, 
that  in  Cairo  and  in  its  vicinity  upwards  of  forty  thousand  per- 
sons lived  on  lizards  and  serpents  only.  The  savage  devours 
with  avidity  the  vermin  that  prey  upon  him.  In  some  coun- 
tries, frogs  are  esteemed  a  delicate  dish.  Locusts  at  times 
sweep  the  face  of  a  country  like  a  conflagration.  No  green 
thing  escapes  their  devouring  tooth,  and  ruin  marks  their 
progress.  But,  besides  furnishing  a  rich  feast  to  the  locust- 
bird,  starlings,  sparrows,  and  swallows,  their  myriads  yield  a 
nutritious  repast  to  the  Arab ;  and  thus  in  some  measure 
compensate  the  desolation  which  they  have  occasioned. 

The  bee  may  sting ;  but  it  furnishes  us  with  honey  and 
wax.  Some  insects  toil  diligently  in  our  service  ;  and  others, 
which  at  first  sight  seem  useless  or  loathsome,  may  be  ap- 
plied to  beneficial  purposes.  The  silk-worm  provides  for  us 
the  materials  of  a  fine  attire.  The  cochineal  imparts  a  beau- 
tiful color  to  our  raiment.  Leeches,  cantharides,  and  other 
inferior  animals,  can  be  made  to  contribute  to  the  preserva- 
tion of  our  health,  or  the  removal  of  our  diseases.  Many 
small  animals  may,  no  doubt,  be  applied  to  valuable  purposes 
with  which  we  are  yet  unacquainted.  Here,  as  in  other  de- 
partments of  nature,  there  is  room  for  patient  observation  and 
careful  experiment ;  for  the  exercise  of  ingenuity  and  the 
progress  of  discovery.  We  may  never,  perhaps,  find  out  all 
the  uses  of  every  species  of  insects ;  but  even  at  present  we 
know  enough  to  justify  the  ways  of  God  to  man. 

Thus,  when  we  survey  the  inferior  animals,  we  perceive 
that  their  vast  number  and  variety  exJiibit  a  brilliant  display 

of  the  mon^na,  a  little  animal  of  tlie  ferret  kind,  which  eagerly  fights  larg-e 
snakes,  provided  a  particular  grass  g-row  near.  If  bitten,  it  eats  a  quantity  of 
this  g-rass,  vomits,  rolls  itself  on  the  ground,  and  again  engages  in  the  combat  3 
but  it  will  by  no  means  act  offensively  if  this  particular  grass  be  not  at  hand. 
For  mongos,  sec  also  Edinburgh  Cahhtet  I^ibrary,  vol.  viii.  p.  36. 

*  An  agent  of  the  French  government  at  Caraccas,  and  author  of  a  "  Voy- 
a"-e  to  liie  Eastern  Part  of  Terra  Firma,  or  the  Spanish  Main,  in  S.  A.,  in 
lOoi  — 1804''  (translated,  180fi,  New  York). 

t  A  celebrated  traveller,  educated  at  Oxford,  and  for  several  years  chaplain 
to  the  English  factory  of  Algiers.  While  there,  he  made  various  excursions  to 
examine  the  curiosities  and  antiquities  of  the  country.  His  Travels  contain  an 
interesting  and  accurate  account  of  Barbary  and  the  Levant,  and  particularly 
of  Egypt.     He  died  at  Oxford,  1751,  a-t.  59. 


NATURAL    EVIL.  211 

of  the  perfections  of  Deity.  Wisdom  and  goodness  are  man- 
ifested in  the  bodily  organization  and  instinctive  propensities 
of  every  species,  as  well  as  in  the  provision  made  for  supply- 
ing their  wants.  When  viewed  in  reference  to  man,  they 
harmonize  with  other  parts  of  the  scene  in  which  he  is  placed, 
serving  to  awaken  his  vigilance  and  activity,  to  exercise  his 
ingenuity,  to  aid  him  in  his  labors,  to  supply  his  wants,  and 
to  diversify  his  enjoyments. 

Why,  it  may  be  inquired,  do  living  creatures  prey  upon 
one  another  ?  Why  do  not  all  animated  beings  on  earth  live 
together  in  harmony,  and  with  mutual  affection  partake  of 
the  common  bounty  of  the  Creator  ?  That  animals  prey  on 
each  other  cannot  be  denied.  Their  doing  so  is  agreeable  to 
the  constitution  of  nature  ;  for  the  bodily  conformation  of 
some  of  them  furnishes  unequivocal  evidence  that  they  were 
designed  to  wage  war  against  others ;  and  fact  corresponds 
with  the  indication.  A  scene  of  hostility  pervades  the  ocean, 
and  prevails  to  a  considerable  extent  on  dry  land.  Among 
the  inhabitants  of  the  waters,  the  strongest,  with  a  few  excep- 
tions, prey  voraciously  upon  the  weaker.  Flight  and  pursuit, 
escaping  from  one  and  devouring  another,  constitute  their 
employment.  On  land,  the  lion  and  tiger  encounter  each 
other;  both  of  these  prey  upon  other  quadrupeds,  and  attack 
even  man  himself     Man  also  is  a  carnivorous  animal. 

The  hostility  that  prevails  among  sentient  beings  exhibits 
a  strange  scene,  and  seems,  at  first  sight,  to  militate  against 
the  attribute  of  goodness,  in  the  Author  of  the  system.  But 
when  we  reflect  that  this  scene  in  a  great  measure  iands 
alone,  and  is  every  where  surrounded  by  plain  indications  of 
benignity,  we  must  feel  ourselves  constrained  to  pause  before 
we  come  to  any  conclusion  unfavorable  to  the  perfections  of 
Deity.  Although  we  could  give  no  explanation  whatever  of 
this  phenomenon,  yet  in  the  midst  of  so  many  proofs  of  good- 
ness, it  would  rather  become  us  humbly  to  acknowledge  our 
ignorance,  than  to  impeach  the  attributes  of  the  Author  of  all 
our  mercies.  Puzzling  as  the  fact  under  consideration  may 
appear,  we  need  not  abandon  it  in  despair,  as  incapable  of 
explanation.  The  following  observations  may  satisfy  us  that 
it  is  not  incompatible  with  that  wisdom  and  goodness  which 
are  so  obvious  in  the  general  constitution  of  the  world. 

Fb'st,  Immortality  upon  this  earth,  as. Dr.  Paley  has  justly 
observed,  is  out  of  the  question.  On  the  supposition  of  im- 
mortality here,  it  is  obvious  that  the  process  of  propagation 
must  soon  terminate.  The  world  would  soon  be  replete 
with  inhabitants ;  there  would  be  no  room  for  more,  and  a 


8i^  NATURAL    EVIL. 

^reat  source  of  animal  happiness  would  be  dried  up.  The 
term  of  life  assigned  to  different  animals  can  form  no  objec- 
tion ;  for  if  we  object  to  the  short  term  of  a  day,  we  may  ob- 
ject, on  the  same  principle,  to  a  hundred  years,  or  to  any  other 
limited  period ;  and  still  ask,  Why  was  not  the  term  of  life 
longer  ?  The  consonancy  of  death  with  wisdom  and  good- 
ness must  be  admitted ;  and  the  term  of  life  assigned  to  any 
animal  cannot  fairly  be  urged  as  an  objection.  The  whole 
question  then  is  reduced  to  this  point — the  manner  in  which 
the  sentence  of  death  is  carried  into  execution.  This  can  be 
only  by  the  decays  of  nature,  by  disease,  or  by  violence. 
When  the  animal  dies  by  violence,  I  apprehend  that,  gener- 
ally speaking,  it  suffers  much  less  pain,  than  when  it  dies  by 
the  decays  of  nature,  or  by  the  operation  of  disease.  The 
pain  may  be  more  intense,  but  it  is  of  much  shorter  duration. 

Harsh  seems  the  ordinance,  that  life  by  life 
Should  be  sustained;  and  yet,  when  all  must  die, 
And  be  like  water  spilt  upon  the  ground, 
Which  none  can  gather  up, — the  speediest  fate, 
Though  violent  and  terrible,  is  best.* 

Man,  under  the  decays  of  nature  or  the  pressure  of  disease, 
has  commonly  some  tender  friend  to  sympathize  with  him, 
and  to  assist  him.  When  he  is  destitute  of  this  sympathy 
and  assistance,  we  deem  his  condition  the  most  deplorable  to 
which  a  human  being  can  be  exposed.  Who,  without  feeling 
his  heart  melt  within  him,  can  think  of  the  aged  or  sick  In- 
dian in  the  wilds  of  Canada,  unable  any  longer  to  travel  with 
his  band,  covered  over  in  the  depth  of  winter  with  a  few 
bushes,  and  left  alone  to  perish  with  cold,  and  hunger,  and 
disease?  But  the  beast,  not  under  the  immediate  protection 
of  man,  that  dies  by  disease  or  old  age,  is  in  a  state  resem- 
bling that  of  the  Indian.  A  violent  death  abridges  instead 
of  increasing  suffering. 

Secondly,  The  present  constitution  of  things  does  not  di- 
minish the  happiness  of  the  inferior  animals  during  life ;  they 
are  afflicted  by  no  painful  anticipations.  Attack  and  defence, 
flight  and  pursuit,  exercise  their  activity,  and  seem  to  consti- 
tute no  small  part  of  their  enjoyments.  The  ocean  is  a  great 
scene  of  hostility  ;  and  so  far  as  we  are  able  to  judge  of  its  in- 
habitants, their  pleasure  is  not  small.  It  seems  in  no  degree 
lessened  by  the  perpetual  war  that  is  going  on.  On  the  dry 
land,  the  dangers  to  which  animals  are  liable  do  not  deprive 
them  of  the  happiness  of  which  their  natures  are  suscepti- 

*  Montgomery. 


NATURAL    EVIL,  213 

ble.  It  is  only  in  the  moment  of  actual  suffering  from 
violence  that  the  present  constitution  of  things  gives  the  ani- 
mal any  pain. 

Thirdhj,  While  the  present  constitution  of  things  does  not 
appear  to  subtract  from  the  happiness  of  sentient  beings  du- 
ring life,  and  while  it  abridges  the  pains  of  death,  it  is  the 
means  of  providing  subsistence  for  a  greater  number  and  va- 
riety of  animals  than  could  have  otherwise  existed  in  the 
world,  and  thus  increases  the  general  sum  of  happiness.  If 
all  animals  had  been  herbivorous  only,  it  is  obvious  that  the 
same  number  and  variety  of  them  could  not  have  subsisted  in 
the  same  place,  as  may  do  so  according  to  the  present  con- 
stitution. But,  within  certain  limits,  which  have  never  yet 
been  exceeded,  the  more  numerous  animals  are,  the  greater 
is  the  sum  total  of  happiness  on  earth.  I  have  already  had 
occasion  to  observe,  that  the  fecundity  of  the  several  tribes  of 
animals  is  well  suited  to  their  several  terms  of  life,  and  to  the 
dangers  and  waste  to  which  they  are  exposed.  Not  one  spe- 
cies perishes  by  the  voracity  of  others.  The  predaceous 
kinds  are  not  nearly  so  numerous  as  those  of  a  more  mild  and 
inoffensive  nature  ;  there  are  thousands  of  sheep  for  one  tiger  ; 
innumerable  larks  for  one  eagle. 

The  fecundity  of  animals  enables  us  to  regulate  the  num- 
bers of  any  kind,  according  to  our  wants  or  our  pleasure.  It 
is  also  the  means  of  filling  up  the  blank  where  man  does  not 
dwell.  Such  is  the  constitution  of  nature,  that  if  we  turn 
up  the  soil  in  any  spot,  it  will  ere  long  be  clothed  with  ver- 
dure, although  we  sow  nothing  there.  Seeds  will  find  their 
way  to  the  place.  In  like  manner,  although  man  retire  from 
any  part  of  the  earth,  it  will  not  remain  an  untenanted  wil- 
derness. Some  of  the  inferior  tribes  will  take  possession  of 
it.  It  will  still  be  a  scene  of  life  and  of  enjoyment.  If  man 
return,  he  can  make  the  inferior  animals  of  every  kmd  retire 
before  him,  contribute  to  his  subsistence,  or  aid  him  in  his 
labors. 

The  depredations  of  animals,  then,  upon  each  other,  is  only 
an  apparent,  not  a  real  evil :  it  forms  no  solid  objection 
against  the  goodness  of  Deity,  for  it  does  not  appear  to  di- 
minish the  happiness  of  any  animal  during  life.  It  abridges 
suffering  at  death,  and  furnishes  subsistence  to  a  greater 
number  of  animals  than  could  otherwise  live  on  the  earth. 
Moreover,  the  inferior  animals  have  no  moral  nature  to  be 
depraved  by  the  system  of  depredation,  or  to  be  improved  by 
the  sufferings  preceding  death  in  the  slow  decays  of  nature, 
or  in  the  progress  of  disease.     Man  may  act  towards  them  in 


214  NATURAL    EVIL. 

such  a  way  as  to  deprave  his  moral  faculties :  wanton  cruelty 
will  harden  his  heart.  But  if  he  make  only  a  legitimate  use 
of  his  dominion,  he  may  avail  himself  of  them,  either  to  assist 
him  in  his  labors,  or  to  supply  his  wants,  without  any  per- 
version or  debasement  of  his  nature. 

3.  The  pains  and  sorrows  to  which  man  is  exposed  from 
his  constitution,  and  the  circumstances  in  which  he  is  placed. 

We  may  here  take  notice  of  an  objection  on  which  some 
persons  seem  to  lay  considerable  stress.  They  complain  that 
the  progress  of  population  always  presses  upon  or  outstrips 
the  means  of  subsistence,  and  that  the  consequent  unavoida- 
ble misery  is  an  evidence  that  the  Author  of  Nature  is  care- 
less about  human  happiness.  This  constitution,  however,  is 
in  exact  accordance  with  the  other  parts  of  the  system,  and 
produces  most  beneficial  effects :  it  calls  forth  exertion, 
sharpens  ingenuity,  prompts  to  the  appropriation  and  culture 
of  the  soil,  and  to  the  arts  and  improvements  which  enrich 
and  adorn  society ;  it  spreads  mankind  over  the  different 
parts  of  the  globe,  and  conducts  the  genial  stream  of  knowl- 
edge and  civilization  to  every  country.  The  band  of  wan- 
dering savages  subsists  by  gathering  the  spontaneous  pro- 
ductions of  the  earth,  and  by  hunting  and  fishing.  When 
their  numbers  multiply,  they  seek  an  addition  to  their  preca- 
rious maintenance  by  a  partial  cultivation  of  the  ground. 
The  principle  of  multiplication,  acting  as  a  propelling  power, 
presses  them  forward  in  the  career  of  agricultural  improve- 
ment. Arts  are  invented,  commerce  is  undertaken,  the  va- 
riety of  roots,  fruits,  and  grains,  is  accommodated  to  a  growing 
community. 

When,  by  a  skilful  agriculture,  and  a  judicious  adjustment 
of  crops,  the  soil  is  made  to  produce  the  greatest  possible 
quantity  of  human  food,  then  cultivation  has  attained  perfec- 
tion. In  no  country,  however,  has  agriculture  hitherto  reach- 
ed this  point ;  for  in  many  parts  even  of  China,  of  the  great 
population  of  which  so  much  has  been  said,  the  cultivation  of 
the  earth  is  in  a  very  imperfect  state.  Unoccupied  or  thinly 
inhabited  regions  are  open  to  receive  an  overflowing  or  dis- 
contented and  restless  population,  just  as  some  part  of  our 
native  country  commonly  receives  us  when  we  quit  the  pa- 
ternal roof  which  sheltered  our  infant  and  youthful  years. 
These  emigrants  carry  along  with  them  part  of  the  manners 
and  attainments  of  their  native  land,  and  diffuse  knowledge 
and  civilization  more  widely  over  the  earth.  In  this  way  in- 
dustry is  kept  in  constant  activity,  and  mankind  are  gradual- 
ly improved.     But  while  the  principle  of  population  is  of  such 


NATURAL    EVIL.  215 

vast  and  beneficial  importance  in  the  course  of  human  affairs, 
it  is  not  to  be  forgotten  that  the  passions  and  appetites  ought 
to  be  under  the  guidance  of  reason  ;  and  that  marriage  ought 
not  to  be  entered  into  without  foresight  and  a  due  considera- 
tion of  circumstances.  In  densely-peopled  countries,  pruden- 
tial restraints  operate  as  a  silent,  but  powerful  check  on  the 
increase  of  the  species.  Instead,  however,  of  dwelling  on 
this  subject,  we  shall  pass  on  to  other  topics. 

From  the  constitution  of  our  nature,  and  the  circumstances 
in  which  we  are  placed,  we  are  unavoidably  exposed  to  oc- 
casional pain,  grief,  and  disease;  and  we  must  at  last  die. 
Pain,  grief,  and  disease  are  sometimes  entirely  owing  to  the 
abuse  of  free  agency  ;  and  sometimes  they  are  greatly  in- 
creased by  it.  In  so  far  as  they  flow  from  this  source,  we 
have  ourselves  to  blame  ;  and  this  part  of  the  subject  has 
been  considered  in  a  preceding  section.  At  present,  it  is 
only  that  portion  of  pain  and  grief  to  which  we  are  unavoida- 
bly exposed  by  the  constitution  of  our  nature  and  the  circum- 
stances in  which  we  are  placed  that  claims  our  attention. 
This,  comparatively  speaking,  forms  but  a  small  portion 
of  human  suffering.  If  from  the  sum  total  we  subtract  the 
product  of  imprudence,  folly,  and  vice,  we  will  leave  but  a 
small  remainder  behind ;  and  with  respect  to  this  remainder, 
it  is  the  result  of  wise  general  laws,  and  is  productive  of 
good  effects. 

Our  body  is  a  material  fabric,  and  must  be  subject  to  those 
general  laws  by  which  matter  is  governed.  General  laws, 
as  we  have  already  seen,  are  highly  advantageous.  Without 
them  we  would  be  altogether  at  a  loss  how  to  act.  They  are 
beacons  for  the  regulation  of  our  conduct.  Yet  from  their 
operation  partial  evils  may  arise.  The  law  of  gravitation  is 
good  ;  but  a  stone  may  f\ill,  and  hurt  or  kill  a  man  ;  or  a  man 
may  fall  and  be  hurt  or  killed.  But  why  were  we  made  sus- 
ceptible of  pain?  To  this  it  may  be  replied,  that  we  cannot 
easily  conceive  a  material  being  susceptible  of  pleasure,  and 
not  also  susceptible  of  pain.  Certain  it  is  that  pain  is  often 
the  means  of  giving  a  higher  relish  to  pleasure,  while  its  re- 
moval is  a  source  of  sweet  enjoyment.  It  is  even  productive 
of  good  effects  in  the  measure  in  which  we  are  exposed  to  it ; 
for  who  would  wish  to  be  deprived  of  that  sensibility  which 
is  the  occasion  of  pain  1  We  may  even  go  farther,  and  assert 
that  it  proves  benevolent  intention  ;  for  it  is  never  inflicted  on 
us  merely  for  its  own  sake,  but  is  a  sentinel  to  watch  over 
our  preservation  and  our  happiness. 

What  has  been  said  of  pain  may  be  applied  in  some  meas- 


2l6  NATURAL    EVIL. 

«ure  to  grief.  Some  sorrows  are  counterbalanced  by  concom- 
itant pleasures.  "  The  joy  of  grief,"  at  first  sight,  may  seem 
a  solecism  in  language;  but  the  propriety  and  beauty  of  the 
expression  are  recognized  by  those  who  have  attended  to  the 
operations  of  their  own  minds.  I  pass  over  the  griefs  which 
arise  from  false  estimates,  lofty  pretensions,  violent  passions, 
and  the  whims  of  a  sickly  and  perverted  imagination.  They 
•are  the  creatures  of  our  own  folly,  and  can  never  with  justice 
be  set  down  in  the  account  against  our  Creator.  The  mor- 
tifications, the  griefs,  and  the  suiferings  from  political  insti- 
tutions of  society,  fall  under  free  agency.  If  men  chose, 
those  things  might  be  otherwise.  If  the  institutions  are  real- 
ly best  for  all,  there  is  no  reason  to  complain  of  them.  If 
they  be  the  means  of  sacrificing  the  happiness  of  the  many  to 
the  interests  or  caprice  of  the  few,  this  is  an  abuse  of  free 
agency,  and  falls  under  the  observations  made  in  a  for- 
mer section. 

Similar  remarks  may  be  applied  to  bodily  disease.  Where 
there  is  no  neglect  or  perversion  of  our  means,  no  abuse  of 
free  agency,  disease  does  not  often  occur.  It  is  a  common 
and  a  true  observation,  that  exercise  and  temperance  are  the 
best  physicians.  Most  persons  find  occasion  for  the  first  of 
these  in  the  course  of  their  lawful  avocations  :  it  is  our  own 
fault  if  we  neglect  the  last.  By  industry  we  are  able,  gene- 
rally speaking,  to  procure  the  means  of  satisfying  the  desires 
of  nature  :  to  pamper  luxury  is  injurious  to  health  ;  for  if  one 
die  of  hunger,  or  of  disease  induced  by  too  spare  a  diet,  ten 
hasten  their  dissolution  by  repletion  and  surfeiting.  When 
we  consider  the  complicated  mechanism  of  the  human  body, 
and  the  variety  of  circumstances  in  which  we  may  be  placed 
without  injury,  we  are  justified  in  saying  that  health  is  not 
easily  impaired.  It  often  remains  uninjured,  or  is  but  little 
aflfected,  although  the  body  be  in  very  different  states  and 
circumstances. 

The  decays  of  old  age,  or  long-continued  disease,  recon- 
cile us  to  dissolution.  The  love  of  life,  in  general,  is  suffi- 
ciently strong  to  induce  us  to  use  every  means  in  our  power 
for  its  preservation,  and  to  submit  to  all  our  trials  rather  than 
resign  it.  Still  the  mind,  as  well  as  the  body,  is  gradually 
prepared  for  a  change.  Death  has  a  formidable  aspect  to  a 
person  in  health  ;  but  to  one  who  has  passed  through  the  grad- 
ually-declining stages  of  old  age,  or  of  lingering  sickness,  it 
has  lost  much  of  its  terror.  Every  step  prepares  for  that 
which  is  to  follow.  Death  is  the  lot  of  humanity,  and  the 
time  when  we  shall  undergo  that  change  is  uncertain.     This 


NATURAL    EVILv  217 

Uticertainty  is  a  wise  appointment.  It  preserves  the  spur  to 
caution  and  activity,  neither  checking  the  spirit  of  enterprise 
by  the  prospect  of  impending  dissohition,  nor  yet  encouraging 
temerity,  presumption,  or  procrastination,  by  the  certainty  of 
a  prolongation  of  life. 

This  world  is  not  a  place  for  our  everlasting  residence. 
Here  we  cannot  reach  the  perfections  of  our  nature;  and  if 
we  could,  this  earth  would  be  found- an  unsuitable  habitation. 
It  would  present  too  many  causes  of  irritation,  and  would 
not  afford  adequate  sources  of  enjoyment.  It  is  fitted  mere- 
ly for  the  introductory  stage  of  our  progressive  being.  It  is 
admirably  adapted  to  our  intellectual  and  moral  improvement 
in  that  stage  ;  and  we  are  called  off  before  the  scene  becomes 
unmeet  for  us.  The  generations  of  the  human  race  pass  away 
in  succession  to  another  state  of  existence,  and  this  succes- 
sion seems  accommodated  to  the  greatest  sum  total  of  hap- 
piness on  earth.  The  young  have  the  keenest  relish  for  tjie 
world  and  its  enjoyments.  True,  indeed,  the  evening  of  a 
good  man's  days  is  by  no  means  comfortless;  but  his  chief 
happiness  arises  from  the  retrospect  of  a  well-spent  life,  and 
the  anticipation  of  a  nobler  state  of  being.  In  this  world,  we 
pass  through  a  course  of  education  for  a  better. 

Is  it  objected  that  many  of  the  human  race  make  little  or 
no  improvement,  either  intellectual  or  moral?  If  they  neglect 
their  talents  and  opportunities,  the  blame  is  their  own  ;  and 
iheir  misconduct  can  form  no  objection  against  the  Author  of 
their  existence  and  Fountain  of  their  mercies.  Do  you  com- 
plain that  you  are  cut  off  in  the  midst  of  your  days  ?  Your 
constitution  is  not  indestructible,  and  in  certain  circumstances, 
you  expose  yourself  to  disease,  which,  operating  according 
to  general  laws,  may  terminate  fatally.  In  this,  however, 
there  is  no  chance,  for  chance  is  introduced  only  when  knowl- 
edge ends;  it  is  merely  the  operation  of  general  laws  to 
which  we  may  not  have  duly  attended.  Many  children  die. 
But  that  so  many  infants  die,  is  owing,  in  no  small  degree, 
to  carelessness  and  mismanagement.  In  some  foundling 
hospitals,  scarcely  any  survive.  In  healthy  situations,  with 
healthy  and  attentive  parents,  few  die.  If  children  were  not 
liable  to  death,  parents  would  be  utterly  careless  ;  but  by  the 
existing  constitution  of  things,  the  carelessness  of  parents  is 
punished  by  the  wounds  which  the  death  of  children  inflicts  on 
parental  affection.  As  to  the  future  state  of  children,  we  need 
have  no  difficulty  in  confiding  it  to  that  great  and  gracious 
Being  who  gives  such  innumerable  instances  of  goodness  in 
every  department  of  nature  around  us. 
19 


218  NATURAL    EVIL. 

Men  are  placed  in  very  different  circumstances  in  the  world, 
and  exposed  to  a  variety  of  vicissitudes.  But  difference  of 
external  circumstances  seems  to  occasion  no  diminution  of 
happiness.  The  laborer  who  earns  his  daily  bread  by  the 
sweat  of  his  brow,  is  as  healthy  and  as  happy  as  he  who 
wears  a  crown.  The  one  is  insensible  to  what  we  consider  the 
hardships  of  his  condition,  the  other  is  familiar  with  what 
we  think  his  enjoyments  ;  and  in  point  of  happiness,  habit 
and  sentiment  have  set  them  nearly  on  a  level.  That  con- 
stitution of  things  by  which  trials  overtake  us,  is  adapted  to 
the  state  of  discipline  in  which  we  are  placed,  and  aids  con- 
science in  indicating  the  path  of  duty,  by  checking  our  aber- 
rations, curbing  our  passions,  and  producing  salutary  effects 
both  on  our  intellectual  and  moral  nature. 

Without  trial  and  suffering,  both  in  ourselves  and  others, 
some  of  our  best  affections  would  lie  dormant,  and  some  of 
the  noblest  energies  of  our  nature  have  no  room  for  action. 
Where  can  courage,  and  fortitude,  and  patience,  be  acquired 
and  displayed,  but  in  the  face  of  difficulties,  and  under  the 
pressure  of  affliction  1  The  skilful  and  intrepid  mariner  does 
not  acquire  his  knowledge,  dexterity,  and  courage,  on  the 
bosom  of  the  sleeping  lake.  He  must  encounter  the  hard- 
ships and  perils  of  the  tempest.  The  hardy  and  fearless  war- 
rior is  not  trained  in  the  calm,  sequestered  vale  of  pastoral 
life :  he  must  mingle  in  the  fitigue,  noise,  and  carnage  of 
martial  achievements.  In  like  manner,  the  candidate  for 
moral  and  intellectual  excellence  must  not  slumber  away  life 
on  a  bed  of  down  :  he  must  submit  to  laborious  exertion  and 
severe  trial.  How  is  a  compassionate  sympathy  excited,  ex- 
cept by  scenes  of  sorrow  and  suffering  ?  Hence  the  Hebrew 
sage,  who  was  no  inattentive  observer  of  the  moral  tenden- 
cies of  our  nature,  says,  "  It  is  better  to  go  to  the  house  of 
mourning  than  go  to  the  house  of  feasting ;  for  by  the  sad- 
ness of  the  countenance  the  heart  is  made  better."  Our  suf- 
ferings and  sorrows,  even  when  they  produce  no  salutary  ef- 
fect on  ourselves,  may  prove  beneficial  to  others.  Prosperity 
and  adversity  are  different  modes  of  education  and  trial,  and 
our  limited  knowledge  does  not  enable  us  to  say  which  of 
them,  in  any  given  case,  requires  the  steadiest  exercise  of 
virtue,  or  is  the  most  efficacions  means  of  improvement.  In 
a  higher  stage  of  existence,  there  may  be  no  need  for  courage, 
fortitude,  patience,  and  pity  ;  because  there  danger  and  suf- 
fering may  be  unknown.  But  there  may  be  need  for  the 
temper  formed  by  those  virtues. 

We  have  seen  that  the  terraqueous  globe  is  admirably  fitted 


NATURAL    EVIL.  219 

up  as  a  place  of  residence  for  sentient  beings ;  and  a  grada- 
tion of  sentient  beings  is  consistent  with  the  wisdom  and 
goodness  of  Deity.  To  deny  this  were,  in  effect,  to  deny 
that  any  creature  could  exist  in  a  consistency  with  the  divine 
perfections.  If  we  declare  it  to  be  incompatible  with  wis- 
dom and  goodness  to  form  creatures  in  any  one  point  of  the 
scale,  we  may,  with  equal  propriety,  make  a  similar  declara- 
tion with  respect  to  any  other  point.  The  earth  is  replen- 
ished with  a  great  variety  of  animals,  and  it  is  fitted  for  being 
a  scene  of  enjoyment  to  every  species.  Many  of  the  kinds 
prey  upon  others  ;  but  this  constitution  impairs  the  happiness 
of  none  :  it  is  the  means  of  supporting  a  greater  number  than 
could  otherwise  have  found  subsistence,  and  consequently 
increases  the  sum  of  enjoyment.  Man  is  the  noblest  inhab- 
itant of  the  earth,  and  has  dominion  over  the  inferior  creatures. 
He  is  a  rational  being,  a  free  agent,  the  subject  of  moral 
government.  He  may  abuse  his  liberty,  and  subject  himself 
to  a  corresponding  punishment.  But  this  punishment  re- 
sults from  his  own  perversity,  and  cannot  be  pleaded  as  an 
objection  against  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God ;  for  the 
agent  might  have  acted  otherwise,  and  not  only  avoided  the 
punishment,  but  enjoyed  reward.  Moral  evil,  therefore,  and 
all  its  consequences,  must  at  once  be  laid  out  of  the  question, 
when  estimating  the  perfections  of  Deity  by  his  works  and 
government. 

The  inferior  animals  are  guided  by  instinct,  and  their  na- 
ture is  stationary.  Man,  however,  is  not  only  a  rational  but 
a  progressive  being  ;  and  he  is  endued  with  a  restless  activity. 
Here  he  is  placed  in  a  school,  not  seated  at  a  banquet;  and 
both  his  improvement  and  happiness  are  promoted  by  exer- 
tion. Every  thing  around  us  is  fitted  to  our  constitution,  to 
stimulate  activity,  to  encourage  hope,  to  reward  industry. 
Nature  does  not  spontaneously  supply  our  wants  and  gratify 
our  desires  ;  but  she  yields  to  our  ingenuity  and  diligence. 
A  succession  of  wants  and  desires  prompts  to  a  repetition  of 
exertions,  and  promotes  progressive  improvement.  Difficul- 
ties occur ;  but  they  are  not  insuperable  :  they  awaken  our 
energies  and  exercise  our  talents.  The  prize  is  within  our 
reach ;  but  we  must  run  vigorously  in  order  to  obtain  it. 
The  victory  may  be  acquired  ;  but  we  must  combat  valiantly 
in  order  to  remain  masters  of  the  field.  Of  this  constitution 
of  things  men  may  complain ;  they  may  complain  that  we 
must  run  to  obtain  the  prize,  that  the  crown  is  not  set  upon 
our  head  till  we  are  qualified  to  wear  it.  This,  however,  is 
the  only  constitution  of  things  suited  to  our  nature.     If  we 


220  NATURAL    EVIL. 

were  placed  in  a  scene  where  every  want  was  easily  and  in- 
stantaneously supplied,  and  every  wish  at  once  gratified  with- 
out contrivance  or  exertion ;  where  there  was  no  room  for 
hope  or  fear,  for  ingenuity  or  activity,  for  the  operation  of  the 
affections  of  the  heart  or  the  powers  of  the  understanding,  we 
would  be  torpid  creatures,  overwhelmed  with  melancholy  lan- 
guor, and  scarcely  able  to  support  the  burden  of  life.  But 
the  vicissitudes  and  trials  to  which  we  are  exposed  call  forth 
our  energies,  awaken  the  noblest  sensibilities  of  our  nature, 
and  strengthen  our  best  affections. 

Disease  is  not  unfrequently  the  means  of  leading  to  the  path 
of  virtue  :  it  has  a  salutary  operation  on  our  moral  constitu- 
tion, and  prepares  us  for  the  rewards  of  obedience.  Death 
is  a  departure  from  the  present  scene;  and  we  have  good 
reason  to  conclude  that,  with  respect  to  those  who  have  acted 
virtuously  here,  it  is  a  transition  to  a  more  exalted  state  of 
being.  No  virtuous  person,  then,  has  reason  to  complain: 
the  vicious  ought  to  direct  their  murmurs  and  complaints,  not 
against  the  Author  of  their  existence  and  their  enjoyments, 
but  against  their  own  folly  and  perversity  in  disobeying  the 
dictates  of  reason  and  conscience,  and  so  forfeiting  that 
happiness  which  the  bountiful  Creator  has  placed  within 
their  reach. 


221 


VOCABULARY 


A. 

Anther,  a  small  body  which  contains  the  pollen,  or  fertilizing  dust  of 
flowers.  The  anthers  are  fixed,  generally,  on  the  ends  of  slender 
filaments,  and  surround  the  germ,  or  seed-vessel. 

Aorta,  the  main  artery  of  the  body,  which  receives  the  blood  directly 
from  the  heart,  and  distributes  it  throughout  the  system. 

Articulations,  joints  formed  by  the  union  of  bones. 

Atlas,  the  upper  vertebra  of  the  neck,  and  which  supports  the  globe 
of  the  head.  The  name  is  given  in  allusion  to  the  fable  of  Atlas 
supporting  the  heavens. 

Auricle,  a  cavity  of  the  heart.  Its  external  shape  gives  it  the  appear- 
ance of  an  appendage  to  this  organ  ;  its  name  is  derived  from  its  re- 
semblance to  an  ear — in  Latin,  auricula. 

Azote,  which  signifies  *•  destructive  of  life,"  the  same  as  Mtrogen, 
which  see. 

c. 

Calcareous,  composed  of  lime. 
Caloric,  the  ultimate  principle  of  heat. 

Calyx,  the  flower-cup ;  the  external  part  of  the  flower,  usually  resem- 
bling the  leaves  in  color,  and  containing  the  other  parts  of  the  flower 

within  it. 
Capillary,  hair-like.     The  extreme  vessels  of  the  body  are  so  called, 

from  their  extreme  minuteness. 
Capsule,  the  seed-vessel  of  plants. 
Carnivorous,  feeding  or  living  on  flesh. 
Carotid,  the  name  of  the  arteries  which  pass  up  the  neck  on  each  side 

of  the  windpipe,  and  convey  the  blood  to  the  head. 
Cartilaginous,  gristly. 
Cellular,  consisting  of  cells. 
Centripetal,  tending  towards  the  centre.     All  bodies  on  the  surface 

have  a  tendency  to  fall  towards  the  centre  of  the  earth. 
Cetaceous,  of  the  whale  kind. 
Condyles,  prominences  at  the  ends  of  some  of  the  bones,  intended  to 

afford  surfaces  for  the  formation  of  joints. 
Cornea,  the  transparent  covering  of  the  front  part  of  the  eye,  through 

which  we  see  the  pupil  and  the  iris. 
Corolla,  the  petals  of  the  flower  considered  as  a  whole. 
Chromatic,  having  the  colors  of  the  rainbow. 

D. 

Diuphragrm.  a  thin,  broad,  muscular  membrane,  extending  across  the 
body,  and  formino-  the  lower  extremity  of  the  thorax. 

19* 


222  VOCABULARY. 

Dioptrics,  a  branch  of  optics  treating  of  the  refraction  of  light  on  its 

passing  through  transparent  substances. 
Dorsal,  relating  to  the  back. 
Duodenum,  the  first  of  the  small  intestines,  next  to  the  stomach,  and 

receiving  the  food  from  it. 

E. 

Elytra,  the  external,  hard,  scaly  wings  of  many  insects,  as  beetles. 
Epiglottis,  the  valve  which  covers  the  passage  from  the  mouth  into  the 

windpipe. 
ExuvicE,  the  cast-off  skin,  shells,  or  other  coverings  of  animals. 
Evisceration,  removal  of  the  internal  organs. 

F. 

Farina,  the  same  as  pollen. 

Filament,  a  substance  long  and  slender,  like  a  thread. 

G. 

Gas,  a  term  in  chemistry,  nearly  the  same  as  air.  All  fluids  which 
are  aeriform  in  ordinary  temperatures,  are  called  gases. 

Gastric,  belonging  to  the  stomach. 

Glands,  so  called,  from  their  supposed  resemblance  to  an  acorn  (glans). 
Their  office  is  to  secrete  from  the  blood  fluids  of  various  kinds. 

H. 

Herbivorous,  feeding  on  herbs  or  grasses. 

Hydrogen,  one  of  the  elements  of  water.  It  can  be  obtained  only  in 
the  form  of  a  gas. 

I. 

Incubation,  the  sitting  upon  and  hatching  of  eggs. 

Inertia,  the  property  of  matter  which  makes  it  remain  in  the  state  in 

which  it  is,  whether  of  motion  or  rest. 
Iris  (plural  irides),  the  colored  ring  surrounding  the  pupil  of  the  eye. 

L. 

LachrijvKil,  relating  to  tears. 

Lamince,  thin  plates,  or  layers. 

Larva,  an  insect  in  its  first  state,  usually  called  a  worm,  or  caterpillar. 

Larynx,  the  upper  part  of  the  windpipe,  including  the  organs  of  speech. 

Lens,  any  transparent  substance  of  a  convex  or  concave  form. 

M. 

Medullary,  consisting  of  marrow.  It  is  applied  also  to  the  substance 
of  the  brain  and  nerves. 

Membranes,  thin  expansions  of  animal  substances,  covering  all  the  im- 
portant animal  organs.  The  stomach  is  formed  of  several  mem- 
branes laid  together. 

Monopetalous,  a  corolla  consisting  of  a  single  petal. 

Muscles,  bundles  of  fibrous  flesh.  In  the  mammalia,  birds,  and  some 
reptiles,  they  are  red;  in  other  animals  mostly  white.     They  consti- 


VOCABULARY.  223 

tute  the  cliief  portion  of  the  flesh  of  animals,  and  are  the  parts  prin- 
cipally used  as  food. 

N. 

J\''asal,  pertaining  to  the  nose. 

Mctitating,  winking  ;  applied  generally  to  the  third  eyelid  of  birds, 
and  some  other  animals. 

jVitrogen,  one  of  the  gases  which  compose  atmospheric  air.  Its  quali- 
ties are  negative,  and  its  principal  use  seems  to  be  merely  to  dilute 
the  oxygen. 

JfymphcB,  insects  in  their  second  or  chrysalis  state. 

o. 

(Esophagus,  the  tube  which  conveys  the  food  from  the  mouth  to  the 

stomach. 
Oviparous,  producing  young  by  means  of  eggs. 
Oxygen,  vital  air ;  also  one  of  the  component  parts  of  water. 

P. 

PapillcB,  small  projections  on  the  surface  of  organs,  as  on  the  tongue. 

Pectoral,  relating  to  the  breast. 

Pericardium,  the  membrane  containing  the  heart. 

Peristaltic,  worm-like  motion. 

Petals,  the  flower  leaves,  or  leaves  of  the  corolla. 

Pharynx,  the  cavity  at  the  back  part  of  the  mouth. 

Pistil,  the  part  of  a  flower  intended  to  receive  the  pollen  of  the  sta 

mens. 
Plumula,  a  little  plant.     It  is  applied  to  the  plant  when  it  first  issues 

from  the  ground. 
Pollen,  the  fertilizing  dust  of  flowers,  produced  by  the  stamens.     The 

same  as  farina. 
Prehensile,  adapted  to  seize  or  grasp. 
Process,  any  elevation  of  parts  of  bones. 

R. 

Radicle,  the  incipient  root  of  plants. 

Retina,  a  very  delicate  and  sensitive  membrane  at  the  back  part  of  the 

eye,  for  the  reception  of  the  images  of  objects.     It  is  supposed  to  be 

an  expansion  of  the  optic  nerve. 
Ruminating,  such  as  chew  the  cud. 

s. 

Saliva,  the  liquid  which  moistens  the  mouth. 
Sapid,  having  taste. 

Sensorium,  the  seat  of  all  sensation,  the  region  of  the  brain. 
SimicE,  the  monkey  tribe. 

Spine,  the  back-bone  ;  so  called  from  its  numerous  sharp  processes. 
Sternum,  the  breast-bone. 

Stigmas,  the  extremities  of  the  pistils  of  plants. 
Subclavian,  lying  under  the  clavicle  or  collar-bone. 
Synovia,  a  liquid  which  lubricates  the  joints,  in  order  to  prevent  too 
great  friction. 


224  VOCABULARY. 


T. 


Temporal,  belonging  to  the  temples. 

Thorax,  the  chest,  formed  by  the  spine,  the  sternum,  the  ribs,  and  the 

diaphragm. 
Trachea,  the  windpipe. 

V. 

VaJvul(B  conniventes,  folds  formed  by  the  internal  membrane  of  the  in- 
testines, and  constituting  partial  valves. 

Vascular,  consisting  of  small  vessels. 

Vena  cava,  one  of  the  large  veins  which  brings  the  blood  from  the  ex- 
tremities of  the  body  to  the  heart. 

Ventricle,  any  small  internal  cavity  of  the  body,  as  the  ventricles  of 
the  heart,  brain,  &c. 

Vertebr(B,  separate  bones  constituting  the  spine. 

Viscus  (plural  viscera),  the  internal  organs  of  the  body,  as  lungs,  heart, 
liver,  stomach,  &c. 


225 

PAXTON'S 
ILLUSTRATIONS; 

WITH 

DESCRIPTIONS. 


INDEX   TO  THE   PLATES. 


Plate. 
1. 
2. 


Tlie  eye 226 

The   eye  of  birds  and  of 
the  eel 227 

3.  The  lachrymal  apparatus, 

and  nictitating  mem- 
brane  228 

4.  The  hximan  ear,  and  tym- 

panum of  the  elephant  229 

5.  Trochlear  muscle  of  the 

eye .\  .   230 

6.  Bones  of  the  arm 231 

7.  The  hip,  knee,  and  ankle 

joints 232 

8.  The  spine 233 

0.  Vertebras    of  the    human 

neck 234 

10.  The    chest,    patella,    and 

shoulder-blade 235 

11.  The  heart 236 

12.  The  larynx 237 

13.  The    stomach,  gall-blad- 

der, &c 

14.  Nerves   of  the   bill   of  a 

duck — ValvulaB  conni- 
ventes — Air-bladder  of 
a  fish,  and  fang  of  the 
viper 

15.  The  wings  of  the  beetle, 

awl,  sting  of  the  bee, 
proboscis,   &c 

16.  Foreextremity  of  themole 

— Head  of  the  ele- 
phant— Finger-like  ex- 


238 


239 


240 


Plate.  Page 

tremity  of  the  proboscis 
— Section  of  the  pro- 
boscis— Bat's  wing — 
Bill  of  the  parrot — Eyes 
of  insects — Eyes  of  a 
spider 241 

17.  The  parotid  gland 242 

18.  Tongue  of  the  woodpeck- 

er, and  skull  of  the 
babyrouessa 243 

19.  The    chameleon,  and  in- 

testine of  the  sea-fox . .  244 

20.  Claw  of  the  heron— Bill  of 


the  soland   goose .  . . 
21.  Stomach  of  the  camel. 


245 
246 


22. 


23. 


Silk  secretors  of  the  silk- 
worm— Spinnerets  of 
the      spider  —  Panorpa 

communis  Female 

and  male  glow-worm 
— Larva  libellulae — 
Breathing  spiraculae — 
Pupa  of  gnat — Straty- 

omys  chamoeleon 247 

The  capsule,  pistil,  sta- 
mens, nigella,  plumu- 

la  and  radicle 248 

Vallisneria 249 

Temporary  and  perma- 
nent teeth 2.50 

The  tendons  of  the  toes . .  251 
The  lacteals,  and  thoracic 
duct 253 


226 


PLATE  I. 


Fig.  1.  The  crystalline  lens  of  a  Jish:  it  is  proportionally  larger 
than  in  other  animals,  and  perfectly  spherical. 

Fig.  2.  A  section  of  the  human  eye.  It  is  foiTned  of  various 
coats,  or  membranes,  containing  pellucid  humors  of  different  de- 
grees of  density,  and  calculated  for  collecting  the  rays  of  light  into 
a  focus  upon  the  nerve  situated  at  the  bottom  of  the  eye-ball. 

The  external  membrane,  called  the  sclerotica,  is  strong  and  firm, 
and  is  the  support  of  the  spherical  figure  of  the  eye  :  it  is  deficient 
in  the  centre,  but  that  part  is  supplied  by  the  cornea,  wiiich  is 
transparent,  and  projects  like  tlie  segment  of  a  small  globe  from  one 
of  larger  size.  The  interior  of  the  sclerotica  is  lined  by  the  choroid^ 
which  is  covered  by  a  dark  mucous  secretion,  termed  pigmentum 
nigrum,  intended  to  absorb  the  superfluous  rays  of  light.  The 
choroid  is  represented  in  tlie  ])late  by  the  black  line.  The  tliird 
and  inner  membrane,  which  is  marked  by  the  white  line,  is  the 
retina,  the  expanded  optic  nerve. 

Within  these  coats  of  the  eye  are  the  humors — a,  the  aqueous 
humor,  a  thin  fluid  like  water  ;  b,  tlie  cn/stalline  lens,  of  a  dense  con- 
sistence ;  c,the  vitreous  humor,  a  very  delicate,  gelatinous  substance, 
named  from  its  resemblance  to  melted  glass.  Thus  the  crystalline 
is  more  dense  than  the  vitreous,  and  the  vitreous  more  dense  than 
the  aqueous  humor:  they  are  all  perfectly  transparent, and  together 
make  a  compound  lens,  which  refracts  the  rays  of  light  issuing 
from  an  object,  d,  and  delineates  its  figure,  e,  in  the  focus  upon  the 
retina,  inverted. 

Fig.  3.  The  lens  of  the  telescope. 

Fig.  4.  The  crystalline  lens,  or,  as  it  has  been  called,  the  crys- 
talline humor  of  the  eye. 

Fig.  5,  6.  A  plan  of  the  circular  and  radiated  fibres  which  the 
iris  is  supposed  to  possess  ;  the  former  contracts,  the  latter  dilates 
the  pupil,  or  aperture  formed  by  the  inner  margin  of  the  iris. 

Fig.  7.  a,  a,  a,  a,  the  four  straight  muscles,  arising  from  the 
bottom  of  the  orbit,  where  they  surround,  c,  the  optic  nerve;  and 
are  inserted,  by  broad,  thin  tendons,  at  the  fore  pait  of  the  globe  of 
the  eye,  into  the  tunica  sclerotica. 


0 


o 


« 


I 


227 


PLATE  II. 

THE  EYE  OF  BIRDS  AND  OF  THE  EEL. 

Fig.  1,  2.  The  flexible  rim,  or  hoop,  of  the  eye  of  birds,  consisting 
of  bony  plates,  which  occupy  the  front  of  the  sclerotica  ;  lying  close 
together  and  overla})ping  each  other.  These  bony  plates,  in  gene- 
ral, form  a  slightly  convex  ring,  Fig.  1  ;  but  in  the  accipitres  they 
form  a  concave  ring,  as  in  Fig.  2,  the  bony  rim  of  a  hawk. 

Fig.  3,  4,  6.  Exhibit  the  marsupium :  it  arises  from  the  back  of 
the  eye,  proceeding  apparently  through  a  slit  in  the  retina :  it 
passes  obliquely  into  the  vitreous  humor,  and  terminates  in  that 
part,  as  in  the  eagle.  Fig.  3,  a  section  of  the  eye  of  the  Falco  chry- 
saetos.  In  some  species  it  reaches  the  lens,  and  is  attached  to  it 
as  in  Fig.  4,  6.     In  the  plate  the  marsupium  is  marked  with  a  *. 

Fig.  5.  The  head  of  an  eel ;  the  skin  is  represented  turned  back ; 
and  as  the  transparent,  Jwrny  covering  of  the  eye,  a,  a,  is  a  cuticular 
covering,  it  is  separated  with  it.  Other  fish  have  a  similar,  insen- 
sible, dense,  and  thick  adnata,  which  is  designed  to  protect  the 
eye ;  and  it  seems  especially  necessary,  as  fish  have  no  eyelids. 


228 


PLATE   111. 

THE    LACHRYMAL   APPARATUS,   AND    NICTITATING   MEMBRANE. 

Fig.  1,  a,  is  the  lachrymal  gland:  it  is  situated  at  the  outer  and 
upper  part  of  the  orl)it  of  tlie  eye.  This  is  the  gland  which  se- 
cretes or  separates  tlie  tears  from  the  blood.  There  are  five  or 
six  ducts  or  tubes,  h,  which  convey  this  fluid  to  the  globe  of  the 
eye,  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  it  moist,  and  for  facilitating  its 
movements ;  the  motion  of  the  eyelid  diffuses  the  tears,  and,  c,  c, 
the  punda  lachrijmalia  take  up  the  supei-fluous  moisture,  which 
passes  through,  d,  the  lachrymal  sac  and  duct,  into  the  nostril  at  e. 

Fig.  2.  The  nictitating  membrane,  or  third  eyelid :  it  is  a  thin 
semi-transparent  fold  of  the  conjunctiva,  which,  in  a  state  of  rest, 
lies  in  the  inner  corner  of  the  eye,  with  its  loose  edge  nearly  ver- 
tical, but  can  be  drawn  out  so  as  to  cover  the  whole  front  of  the 
globe.  In  this  figure  it  is  represented  in  the  act  of  being  dra\\Ti 
over  the  eye.     By  means  of  this  membrane,  according  to  Cuvier, 


Fig.  3.  The  two  muscles  of  the  nictitating  membrane  are  very 
singular  in  their  form  and  action  ;  they  are  attached  to  the  back  of 
the  sclerotica;  one  of  them,  a,  which  from  its  shape  is  called  quad- 
ratus,  has  its  origin  from  the  up})er  and  back  part  of  the  sclerotica; 
its  fibres  descend  towards  the  o})tic  nerve,  and  termiuate  in  a 
curved  margin  with  a  cylindrical  canal  in  it.  The  other  muscle, 
6,  which  is  caWed  pyramidalis,  arises  from  the  lower  aud  back  part 
of  the  sclerotica.  It  has  a  long  tendinous  cliord,  c,  which  passes 
through  the  canal  of  the  quadratus,  a,  as  a  pulley,  and  having  arrived 
at  the  lower  and  exterior  part  of  the  eye-ball,  is  inserted  into  the 
loose  edge  of  the  nictitating  membrane.  This  description  refers 
also  to  Fig.  4,  a  profile  of  the  eye,  and  Fig.  5,  the  membrane  and 
its  muscles  detached  from  the  eye. 


w 


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229 


PLATE  IV. 

THE  HUMAN  EAR,  AND  TYMPANUM  OF  THE  ELEPHANT. 

Fig.  1.  The  organ  of  hearing:  a,  the  external  ear;  h,  the  meatus 
auditorius  extemus,  or  outward  passage  of  the  ear,  leading  to,  c, 
the  memhrana  tympany  or  (h-uiii ;  rf,  the  ossicula  auditus,  or  little 
bones  of  the  ear ;  e,  the  semicircular  canals ;  f,  the  cocldea ;  g,  a  sec- 
tion of  the  eustachian  tube,  which  extends  from  tlie  cavity  of  the 
tympanum,  to  the  back  of  the  mouth  or  fauces. 

Fig,  2,  The  bones  of  the  ear  magnified  :  a,  the  malleus,  or  mallet, 
connected  by  a  process  to  the  tympanum  ;  the  round  head  is  lodged 
in  the  body  of,  6,  the  incus,  or  anvil,  and  the  incus  is  united  to,  c, 
the  OS  orbicidare,  or  round  bone,  and  this  to,  d,  the  stapes,  or  the 
stirrup.  These  bones  are  named  fi-om  their  shape,  and  the  names 
assist  in  conveying  an  idea  of  their  form.  They  are  united  by 
ligaments,  and  form  an  uninterrupted  chain  to  transmit  the  vibra- 
tions of  the  atmosphere. 

Fig.  3.  The  labyrinth,  so  named  from  the  intricacy  of  its  cavities : 
it  is  situated  in  the  petrous  part  of  the  temporal  bone,  and  consists 
of  the  vestibule,  or  central  cavity,  three  semicircular  canals,  and 
cochlea,  so  named  from  its  resemblance  to  the  windings  of  a  snail 
shell,  and  is  best  explained  by  the  plate,  Fig.  1,  and  3. 

The  vibrations  of  sounds,  striking  against  the  membrana  tym- 
pani,  are  propagated,  by  the  intei-vention  of  these  four  little  bones, 
to  the  loater  contained  within  the  cavities  of  the  labyrinth  ;  and  by 
means  of  this  water  the  impression  is  conveyed  to  the  extremities 
of  the  auditory  nerve,  and  finally  to  the  brain. 

Fish  require  no  tympanum  nor  external  opening  to  the  ear ;  the 
fluid  in  which  they  live  is  the  medium  for  conducting  sounds 
through  the  bones  of  the  head. 

Fig.  4.  The  tympanum  of  the  elephant,  of  its  natural  size,  show- 
ing its  radiated  fibres,  supposed  to  be  muscular. 
20 


230 


PLATE  V. 

TROCHLEAR   MUSCLE    OF    THE    EYL. 

Fig.  1.  The  trochlear,  or  superior  oblique  muscle,  arises  with  the 
straight  muscles  from  the  bottom  of  the  orbit.  Its  muscular  portion, 
a,  is  extended  over  the  upper  part  of  the  eye-ball,  and  gradually 
assumes  the  form  of  a  smooth,  round  tendon,  b,  which  passes 
through  the  pulley,  c,  and  is  fixed  to  the  inner  edge  of  the  orbit,  </, 
then  returning  backwards  and  downwards,  e,  is  inserted  into, /",  the 
sclerotic  membrane.  The  use  of  this  muscle  is  to  bring  the  eye 
forwards,  and  to  turn  the  pupil  downwai-ds  and  upwards. 


(-'^ 


231 


PLATE  VI. 

BONES    OF    THE    ARM. 

Fig.  I.  a,  the  humerus :  the  head,  6,  is  a  portion  of  a  sphere,  and 
exhibits  an  example  of  the  ball  and  socket,  or  universal  joint ;  c, 
the  hinge-joint,  instanced  in  the  elbow ;  d,  the  radius ;  e,  the  ulna. 
The  radius  belongs  more  peculiarly  to  the  wrist,  being  the  bone 
which  supports  the  hand,  and  which  turns  with  it  in  all  its  re- 
volving motions.  The  ulna  principally  belongs  to  the  elbow-joint ; 
for  by  it  we  perform  all  the  actions  of  bending  or  extending  the  arm. 

Fig.  2.  a,  the  humerus :  h  shows  the  connection  of  the  radius, 
with,  c,  the  ulna,  at  the  elbow.  The  mode  of  articulation  at  tlie 
wrist  is  seen,  Fig.  1. 


232 


PLATE  VII. 

THE  HIP,  KNEE,  AND  ANKLE  JOINTS. 

Fig.  1.  The  capsular  ligament  is  here  opened  in  order  to  show 
the  ligament  of  the  hip,  named  the  round  ligament.  It  allows  con- 
siderable latitude  of  motion,  at  the  same  time  that  it  is  the  great 
safeguard  against  dislocation. 

Fig.  2  and  4.  The  crucial  or  internal  ligaments  of  the  knee-joint 
arise  from  each  side  of  the  depression  between  the  condyles  of  the 
thigh-bone  ;  the  anterior  is  fixed  into  the  centre,  the  ])osterior  into 
the  back  of  the  articulation  of  the  tibia.  This  structure  properly 
limits  the  motions  of  the  joint,  and  gives  the  firmness  requisite  for 
violent  exertions.  Viewing  the  form  of  the  bones,  we  should  con- 
sider it  one  of  the  weakest  and  most  superficial ;  but  the  strength 
of  its  ligaments  and  the  tendons  passing  over  it,  render  it  the  most 
secure,  and  the  least  liable  to  dislocation,  of  any  joint  in  the  whole 
body. 

Fig.  3.  One  of  the  interarticular  cartilages  of  the  knee,  from 
then*  shape  called  semilunar  ;  it  is  also  represented  in  situ,  Fig.  2. 
The  outer  edge  of  each  cartilage  is  thick,  the  inner  concav^e  edge 
thin ;  the  sockets  for  the  condyles  of  the  thigh-bone  are  thus  ren- 
dered deeper,  and  the  cartilages  are  so  fixed  as  to  allow  a  little 
play  on  the  tibia,  by  which  the  joint  moves  with  great  freedom. 

A  moving  cartilage  is  not  common,  but  is  peculiar  to  those  joints 
whose  motions  are  veiy  frequent,  or  which  move  under  a  great 
weight.  It  is  a  contrivance  found  at  tlie  jaw-bone,  the  inner  head 
of  the  collar-bone,  and  the  articulation  of  the  wrist,  as  well  as  at 
the  knee.  The  obvious  use  is  to  lessen  friction  and  facilitate 
motion. 

Fig.  4.  a,  the  Jibula ;  b,  the  tibia,  the  lower  extremities  of  which, 
c,  d,  form  the  outer  and  inner  ankle,  and  receive,  e,  the  great  artic- 
ulating bone  of  the  foot,  called  the  astragalus,  between  them.  When 
the  foot  sustains  the  weight  of  the  body,  the  joint  isfii-m  ;  but  when 
raised,  it  easily  rolls  on  the  ends  of  these  bones,  so  that  the  toe  is 
directed  to  the  place  on  which  we  intend  to  step. 


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233 


PLATE  VIII. 

THE    SPINE. 

Fig.  1.  The  human  spine,  so  named  from  the  series  of  sharp 
processes  projecting  from  the  posterior  part  of  the  vertebrse.  The 
spine  consists  of  seven  vertebrae  of  the  neck,  distinguished  by  the 
perforations  in  their  transverse  processes ;  of  twelve  belonging  to 
the  back,  and  marked  by  depressions  for  the  heads  of  the  ribs ;  and, 
lastly,  oi'Jive  belonging  to  the  ioms,  which  are  larger  than  the  other 
vertebrae. 

Fig.  2.  A  separated  dorsal  vertebra:  a,  the  body  of  the  vertebra; 
J,  the  ring  through  which  the  spinal  marrow  passes ;  c,  c,  the  ar- 
ticulatmg  surfaces  to  which  the  ribs  are  united. 

Fig.  3.  The  vertebra  of  a  very  large  serpent,  drawn  from  a  speci- 
men belonging  to  the  Anatomy  School  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford. 
This  figure  shows  the  socket  of  the  vertebra. 

Fig.  4.  The  bail  or  rounded  jomt,  evidently  calculated  for  ex- 
tensive motion. 

Fig.  5.  A  part  of  the  spine  of  the  same  reptile  ;  it  is  exceedmgly 
strong,  each  bone  being  united  to  the  other  by  fifteen  surfaces  of 
articulation. 

Fift.  6.  Intervertebral  substance. 
20* 


234 


PLATE   IX. 

VERTEBRA    OF    THE   HUMAN   NECK, 

Fig.  1.  A  representation  of  the  head  and  the  neck;  the  latter  is 
composed  of  seven  bones,  called  vertebra. 

Fig.  2.  Exhibits  the  first  and  second  vertebrae,  with  their  mode 
of  connection.  The  uppermost  vertebra,  termed  the  atlas,  from  its 
supporting  the  globe  of  the  head,  has  an  oval,  concave  surface,  a,  a, 
on  either  side,  for  the  reception  of  two  corresponding  convex  sur- 
faces placed  on  the  lower  part  of  the  head,  in  such  a  manner  as  only 
to  admit  of  the  action  of  bendmg  and  raising  the  head. 

Fig.  3.  The  atlas. 

Fig.  4.  The  second  vertebra,  called  dentata,  has  two  plane  surfaces, 
a,  a,  adapted  to  the  planes,  a,  a,  Fig.  3,  of  the  adas ;  and  this  man- 
ner of  articulation  provides  for  the  turning  of  the  head  laterally  in 
almost  every  direction.  Fig.  2,  and  4,  b,  b,  show  the  tooth-like  pro- 
cess, which  affords  a  firm  pivot  for  the  production  of  the  lateral 
motion  just  described.  This  process  is  received  into  a  correspond- 
ing indentation  of  the  atlas.  Fig.  3,  b,  and  a  strong  ligament  passes 
behind  it,  serving  as  an  effectual  security  against  dislocation  and 
the  consequent  compi-ession  of  the  spinal  marrow.  Fig. 4,  d,  marks 
the  situation  for  the  spinal  marrow,  which  passes  through  the  ring 
of  each  vertebra.  The  letter  c  indicates  a  pei-foration  in  the  lateral 
process ;  and,  as  there  is  a  corresponding  perforation  in  each  lateral, 
or,  as  it  is  termed,  transverse  process  of  the  seven  cervical  vertebrae, 
a  continuous  passage  is  thus  formed  for  the  protection  of  two  im- 
portant blood-vessels  destmed  to  supply  the  brahi. 


235 


PLATE  X. 

THE    CHEST,    PATELLA,   AND    SHOULDER-BLADE. 

Fig.  1.  The  spine,  ribs,  and  sternum,  constitute  the  framework 
of  the  chest  or  thorax.  Referring,  however,  to  the  plate,  or  to 
nature,  we  observe  that  the  ribs  are  not  continued  throughout  from 
the  spine  to  the  sternum,  but  intervening  cartilages  complete  the 
form  of  the  chest,  by  connecting  the  end  of  the  first  ten  ribs  to  the 
breast-bone.  This  is  a  further  provision,  relative  to  the  mechanical 
function  of  the  lungs,  deserving  notice.  The  muscles  of  respira- 
tion enlarge  the  cajjacity  of  the  chest  by  elevating  the  ribs ;  and 
during  the  momentary  interval  of  muscular  action,  the  cartilages, 
from  theu'  great  elasticity,  restore  the  ribs  to  their  former  position. 

Fig.  2.  Represents  the  true  shape  of  the  patella,  the  anteiior  sw- 
face  convex.  Fig.  3,  the  posterior  surface,  which  has  two  concave 
depressions  adapted  to  the  condyles  of  the  thigh-bone.  The  pro- 
jection of  the  patella,  as  a  lever,  or  pulley,  removes  the  acting  force 
from  the  centre  of  motion,  by  which  means  the  muscles  have  a 
greater  advantage  in  extending  the  leg.  Such  bones  are  numer- 
ous, though  less  obvious,  for  they  do  not  exceed  the  size  of  a  pea : 
these  are  called  sesamoid  bones,  and  are  formed  in  the  flexor  tendons 
of  the  thumb,  and  sometimes  in  the  fingers.  They  are  frequently 
found  under  the  tendons  of  some  of  the  muscles.  Two  of  this 
sort  of  bones  are  constantly  found  under  the  articulation  of  the  great 
toe  with  the  foot :  some  also  are  discovered,  though  not  so  con- 
stantly, under  the  corresponding  joints  of  the  other  toes.  The 
sesamoid  bones,  like  the  patella,  remove  their  tendons  from  the 
centre  of  motion,  facilitate  their  glidings  over  the  bone,  and  pro- 
tect their  articulations. 

Fig.  4.  The  shoulder-blade  {scapula)  is  joined  to  the  collar-bone 
by  ligaments,  and  to  the  thorax  by  powerful  muscles,  which  are 
capable  of  sustaining  immense  weights,  and  whose  action  gives  the 
various  directions  to  the  arm,  and  enables  it  freely  to  revolve  at  the 
shoulder-joint. 

Fig.  5.  The  os  hyoides,  a  small  bone  situated  at  the  root  of  the 
tongue.  It  serves  as  a  lever  or  point  for  attaching  the  muscles  of 
the  tongue,  larynx,  and  those  of  deglutition. 


236 


PLATE  XI. 

THE    HEART. 

Fig.  1.  A  section  of  the  human  heart;  a,  a,  the  superior  and  in- 
ferior vena  cava,  the  veins  which  convey  the  blood  to,  b,  the  right 
auricle,  and  thence  into,  c,  the  corresponding  ventricle;  from  this 
ventricle  the  blood  is  impelled  through,  e,  the  pulmonary  artery,  in- 
to the  lungs;  and  returning  by,  /,/,  the  pulmonary  veins,  it  is  re- 
ceived into,  g,  the  lejt  auricle ;  it  flov^^s  next  into,  h,  the  left  ventricle, 
which,  by  its  contraction,  distributes  the  blood  through  the  general 
arterial  system ;  j,  the  aorta,  the  great  artery  which  transmits  blood 
to  the  different  parts  of  the  body,  from  whence  it  is  returned  by 
veins  to  the  cava ;  k,  the  right  subclavian  ;  I,  the  right  carotid  ar- 
teries, originating  from  one  common  trunk  ;  m,  the  left  carotid;  n, 
the  lejl  subclavian ;  d,  the  valves  of  the  right ;  i,  the  valves  of  the 
left  ventricle. 

Fig.  2.  The  valves  of  the  right  side  [tricuspid  valves)  separated 
from  the  heart ;  a,  a,  a,  the  columnce  carnefE,  or  muscular  fibres  of 
the  valves  ;  b,  b,  b,  the  chord(K  tendinece,  or  tendinous  filaments 
which  are  attached  to,  c,  the  valves. 

Fig.  3.  Exhibits  the  pulmonary  artery  cut  open,  v/ith  the  form 
of  the  semilunar  valves. 

Fig.  4.  A  portion  of  the  artery  filled,  showing  how  effectually 
tlie  valves  prevent  the  retrograde  motion  of  the  blood  in  the  aorta 
and  pulmonary  artery. 

Fig.  5,  6.  A  section  of  a  cutting  and  grinding  tooth,  showing 
the  apertures  at  the  root,  and  the  cavities  for  the  vessels  and  nerves, 
which  supply  the  bony  part  of  the  teeth,  the  enamel  not  being  an 
organized  substance. 


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237 


PLATE  XII. 

THE   LARYNX. 


Fig.  1.  The  larynx,  pharynx,  &c. ;  a,  the  os  hyoides ;  6,  the  epiglot- 
tis pressed  down,  thus  covering  the  glottis,  or  opening  of  the  larynx, 


Fig.  2.  Exhibits  the  larynx  and  trachea,  which  is  a  continu- 
ation of  the  former ;  6,  the  epiglottis ;  g,  the  arytenoid  cartilages ; 
e,  the  thyroid  cartilage,  exceedingly  strong,  for  the  protection  of 
the  upper  part  of  the  air-tube ;  d,  the  cartilaginous  ringlets  of  the 
trachea  or  windpipe,  each  forming  nearly  two  thirds  of  a  circle, 
and  completed  hy,f,  a  soft  me mftrane,  which,  from  its  apposition  to, 
e,  Fig.  1,  the  asopliagus,  accommodates  itself  to  the  substances 
passing  into  the  stomach. 

Fig.  3.  The  larynx  or  upper  part  of  the  windpipe  of  a  bird. 
This  is  called  the  inferior  larynx,  where  the  vocal  organ  is  formed 
by  a  compression  of  the  trachea,  for  it  is  here  contracted  into  a 
narrow  chink,  and  divided  mto  two  openings  by  a  slender  bone, 
or  tense  membrane,  which,  in  producing  sounds,  resembles  the 
mechanism  of  a  musical  instrument.  In  the  plate,  this  part  of  the 
larynx  is  a  little  turned  up,  to  show  the  tendinous  hand  at  this  ex- 
tremity stretched  across  it,  which  is  furnished  from  the  surround- 
ing parts  with  muscles  to  modulate  the  tone. 


238 


PLATE  XIII. 

THE    STOMACH,    GALL-BLADDER,    &C. 

Fig.  1.  a,  the  stomach;  h,  ihe  cay-dia;  c,  the  pyloi'us.  The  gastric 
juice  is  a  secretion  derived  from  the  inner  membrane  of  the  stomach, 
and  digestion  is  principally  performed  by  it.  In  the  various  orders 
of  animated  beings  it  differs,  being  adapted  to  the  food  on  which 
they  are  accustomed  to  subsist.  The  food,  when  properly  masti 
Gated,  is  dissolved  by  the  gastric  fluid,  and  converted  into  chyme  ; 
so  that  most  kinds  of  the  iugesta  lose  their  specific  qualities ;  and 
the  chemical  changes  to  which  they  would  otherwise  be  liable,  as 
putridity  and  rancidity,  &c.,  are  thus  prevented. 

In  this  plate,  h,  the  liver,  is  turned  up,  in  order  to  show  the  gall- 
bladdei',  which  is  attached  to  its  concave  surface  ;  d,  the  duodenum  ; 
e,  part  of  the  small  intestines ;  f,  the  pancreas ;  and  g,  the  spleen. 

Fig.  2.  Explains  the  several  ducts  and  their  communication  with 
the  duodenum ;  a,  the  gall-Madder ;  6,  the  ductus  cysticus ;  which 
uniting  with,  c,  the  ductus  hep aticus,  forms,  d,  the  ductus  communis  ; 
which,  after  passmg  between  the  muscular  and  inner  coats  of  the 
intestine,  opens  into  it  at  e ;  /,  the  pancreatic  duct.  The  bile  is  said 
to  become  more  viscid,  acrid,  and  bitter,  from  the  thinner  pai'ts 
being  absorbed  during  its  retention  in  the  gall-bladder. 


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239 


PLATE  XIV. 

NERVES  OF  THE  BILL  OF  A  DUCK,  VALVULE  CONNIVENTES,  AIR- 
BLADDER  OF  A  FISH,  A^D    FANG  OF  THE  A'IPER. 

Fig.  1.  The  upper  mandible  of  the  duck,  on  which  are  distrib- 
uted the  first  and  second  branches  of  the  fifth  pair  of  nerves  ;  the 
former  passing  tln-ough  the  orbit  to  the  extremity  of  the  bill,  and, 
together  with  the  latter,  supplying  the  whole  palatine  surface.  This 
gustatory  sensibility  is  the  moi-e  necessary  to  those  races  of  birds 
called  palmipedes,  such  as  penguins,  the  wild  goose,  ducks,  &c., 
and  the  gralloe,  such  as  water-hens,  curlews,  woodcocks,  &.C.,  thek 
sight  being  of  no  assistance  to  them  in  finding  their  prey  in 
the  mu*e. 

Fig.  2.  A  small  portion  of  the  human  intestine  cut  open  in  order 
to  show  the  valvulcR  conniventes.  It  may  be  questioned  whether 
these  extremely  soft  rugpe  or  folds  of  the  villous  coat  of  the  intes- 
tine can  in  the  least  retard  the  passage  of  the  food  through  its 
canal ;  nor  does  the  erect  attitude  of  man  require  them  ;  for,  since 
there  are  as  many  of  the  convolutions  of  the  intestines  ascending 
as  there  are  descending,  the  weight  of  the  food  can  have  no  influ- 
ence in  the  action  of  the  intestine:  it  is  certain,  however,  that  this 
arrangement  of  the  internal  coat  affords  a  more  extensive  surface 
for  the  larteals  and  secreting  vessels ;  and  this  appears  to  be  the 
real  use  of  the  valvid<B  conniventes. 

Fig.  3.  The  air-bladder  in  the  roach.  This  vessel  differs  in  size 
and  shape,  in  different  species  of  fish  ;  generally  communicating, 
by  one  or  more  ducts,  either  with  the  oeso])hagus  or  stomach ;  by 
which  means  the  fish  receives  or  expels  the  air,  thus  sinking  or 
rising  without  effort:  but  as  some  are  destitute  of  this  organ,  it  is 
considered  as  an  accessory  instrument  of  motion.  Such  fish  live 
almost  uniformly  at  the  bottom  of  the  water. 

Fig.  4.  The  head  of  a  viper,  of  the  natural  size. 

Fig.  5.  The/ano-  magnified,  at  the  root  of  which  is  the  gland 
which  secretes  the  venom :  a  hair  is  represented  in  the  tube  through 
which  the  poison  is  ejected. 


240 
PLATE  XV. 


THE    WINGS    OF    THE    BEETLE,   AWL,    STING    OF    THE    BEE,    PRO- 
BOSCIS,   &C. 

Fig.  1.  Is  an  instance  of  the  horny  and  gauze  wings  in  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  of  the  beetle  class  of  this  country,  the  Cetonia 
aurata^  or  rose  chafer ;  showing  the  expanded  elytra,  a,  a ;  the  true 
wings,  b,  b. 

Elytra  are  the  wing  covers  of  all  the  coleoptera  order.  They  are 
frequently  grooved,  and  curiously  ornamented,  in  some  species 
with  scaly  variegations  of  metallic  lustre,  as  in  the  diamond  beetle, 
and  some  species  of  Buprestis.  One  of  the  latter,  of  extraordinary 
brilliancy,  forms  an  object  in  the  "Cabinet  of  Beauty"  in  the  Ash- 
molean  Museum.  The  use  of  the  elytra  is  to  protect  the  wings 
and  body ;  and  they  are  of  some  assistance  in  flying. 

Fig.  2.  A  specimen  of  the  elytra  covering  half  the  body  in  the 
ear-wig  (Forficula  auricularia) ;  one  of  the  elytra  is  extended,  and 
the  membranous  wing  unfolded  ;  showing  the  numerous  diverging 
7iervures,  or  muscular  tendons,  which  run  in  horny  tubes,  to 
keep  the  wing  extended,  a,  a,  anieniKB  usually  consist  of  a  number 
of  tubular  joints,  with  a  free  motion  in  each,  enabling  the  insect  to 
give  them  every  necessary  flexure ;  they  vary  in  number  and  in 
shape  in  the  various  orders,  and  are  covered  with  hair,  down,  or 
bristles,  frequently  elegant  and  diversitied,  as  every  one  may  ob- 
serve. Entomologists  conceive,  that  the  antennae,  by  a  peculiar 
structure,  may  collect  notices  from  the  atmosphere,  receive  vibra- 
tions, and  connnunicate  them  to  the  sensorium,  which,  though  not 
precisely  to  be  called  hearing,  is  something  analogous  to  it,  or  may 
answer  that  purpose. 

Fig.  3.  The  awl  of  the  Mstrum  bovis,  or  gad-Jly,  highly  magni- 
fied. It  is  formed  of  corneous  substance,  consisting  of  four  joints, 
which  slip  into  each  odier :  the  last  of  these  terminates  in  five 
points,  three  of  which  are  longer  than  the  others,  and  are  liooked; 
when  united,  they  form  an  instrument  like  an  auger  or  gimlet,  with 
which  the  skin  is  pierced  in  a  few  seconds. 

Fig.  4.  One  of  the  hooks. 

Fig.  5.  The  sting  of  a  bee,  drawn  from  nature  as  it  appeal's  by 
means  of  a  magnifier  of  very  high  powers;  a,  a,  a,  a,  the  appara 
tus  for  projecting  the  sting:  6,  the  exterior,  c,  the  interior  sheath 
of,  d,  the  true  sting,  which  is  divided  into  two  parts,  barbed  at  the 
sides ;  e,  the  bag  whicli  contains  the  poison. 

Fig.  0.  The  proboscis  of  a  bee  extended ;  a,  a,  the  case  or  sheath  ; 
6,  the  tube ;  c,  the  exterior,  d,  the  interior  fringes;  e,  the  tongue; 
f,f,  the  exterior,  g,  g,  the  interior  palpi. 

Fig.  7.  The  appearance  of  the  proboscis  when  contracted,  and 
folded  up. 

Fig.  8.  The  head  of  a  butterfly,  showing  the  coiled  proboscis. 

Fig.  9.   Ovipositor  of^ the  Buprestis. 


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'^41 


PLATE  XVI. 

FORE    EXTREMITF    OF    THE    MOLE — HEAD    OF    THE    ELEPHANT FINGER- 
LIKE   EXTREMITy    OF  THE    PROBOSCIS — SECTION  OF  THE    PROBOSCIS 

bat's    wing — BILL     OF     THE     PARROT — EYES    OF     INSECTS — EYES     OF 
X    SPIDER, 

Fig.  1.  Is  the  fore  extremity  of  the  mole  ;  a,  the  os  humeri,  is  pe- 
cuhar,  not  only  for  its  shortness,  but  in  being  articulated  by,  h,  one  head 
to  the  scapula,  and  by,  c,  another  to  the  clavicle ;  it  is  altogether  of 
such  a  nature  as  to  turn  the  palm  outwards  for  working. 

The  foot,  or  we  may  name  it  the  hand,  has  eleven  bones  in  the 
carpus,  or  wrist,  which  is  two  more  than  the  carpus  of  man ;  one  of 
which,  </,  is  remarkable,  and  from  its  shape  is  called  the  falcif arm  bone: 
it  gives  the  shovel  form  to  the  hand. 

Fig.  2,  The  head  of  the  Elephant. 

Fig.  3  and  4.  The  digitated  extremity  of  the  proboscis. 

Fig.  5.  A  transverse  section  of  the  proboscis,  showing,  a,  a,  the  two 
tubes  or  nostrils.  Between  the  external  integuments  and  the  tubes  are 
two  sets  of  small  muscles;  an  inner  one  running  in  a  transverse,  and 
an  outward  one  in  a  longitudinal  direction  :  b,  b,  the  transverse  fasciculi 
of  muscles,  some  of  which  run  across  the  proboscis,  others  in  a  radi- 
ated, and  some  in  an  oblique  direction  :  c,  c,  the  radiated,  and  d,  d,  the 
oblique  fibres  approximate  the  skin  and  the  tubes,  without  contracting 
the  cavity  of  the  latter.  The  others,  which  pass  across  the  proboscis, 
contract  both  the  surface  of  the  organ  and  the  canals  it  contains  ;  they 
can,  at  the  same  time,  elongate  the  whole  or  a  part  of  it;  e,  e,  the  lon- 
gitudinal fasciculi,  forming  four  large  muscles,  which  occupy  all  the 
exterior  of  tjie  organ. 

Fig.  C.  The  extended  wings  of  the  hat.  Osteologically  considered, 
they  are  hands,  the  bony  stretches  of  the  membrane  being  the  finger 
bones  extremely  elongated  :  a,  a,  the  thumb,  is  short,  and  armed  with  a 
hooked  nail,  which  these  animals  make  use  of  to  hang  by,  and  to  creep. 
The  hind  feet  are  weak,  and  have  toes  of  equal  length,  armed  also  with 
hooked  nails ;  the  membrane  constituting  the  wing,  is  continued  from 
the  feet  to  the  tail. 

Fig.  7.  The  upper  mnndible  of  the  parrot,  which  is  articulated  with 
the  cranium  by  an  elastic  ligament,  admitting  of  a  considerable  degree 
of  motion. 

Fig.  8.  An  eye  compounded  of  a  number  of  lenses.  The  eyes  of  in- 
sects differ  widely  from  those  of  vertebrated  animals,  by  being  incapable 
of  motion :  the  compensation,  therefore,  is  a  greater  number  of  eyes,  or  an 
eye  compounded  of  a  number  of  lenses.  Hook  computed  the  lenses  in 
a  horse-fly  to  amount  to  7,000,  and  Leuwenhoek  found  the  almost  in- 
credible number  of  12,000  in  the  dragon-fly. 

Fig.  9.  The  eyes  of  a  5p^■rfer,  drawn  from  nature.  The  number  of 
eyes  in  insects  varies  from  two  to  sixteen.  The  spider  here  referred 
to,  answers  the  description  of  the  garden  spider  {Epeira  diadema),  the 
eyes  of  which  are  planted  on  three  tubercles,  four  on  the  central  one, 
and  two  on  each  side  of  the  lateral  ones. 

21 


242 


PLATE  XVII. 

THE    PAROTID    GLA>"D. 

Fig.  1.  A  dissection  to  eidiibit  the  parotid  gland. 

Fig.  2.  Explains  the  former ;  a,  a,  the  integuments  turned  back ; 
h,  the  parotid  gland ;  c,  its  pipe  or  duct  passing  over  the  masseter,  then 
perforating,  d,  the  buccinator  muscle,  and  opening  into  the  mouth 
opposite  the  second  molar  tooth.  The  flow  of  saliva  into  the 
mouth  is  mcessant,  and  it  is  one  of  the  most  useful  digestive  fluids. 
It  is  favorable  to  the  maceration  and  division  of  the  food  ;  it  assists 
in  its  deglutition  and  transformation  into  chyme ;  it  also  renders 
more  easy  the  motions  of  the  tongue  in  speech  and  singmg. 


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243 


PLATE  XVIII. 

TONGUE  OF  THE  WOODPECKER,  AIS'D  SKULL  OF  THE  BABYROUESSA. 

Fig.  1.  The  head  of  the  ivoodpecker  [Picus  viridis). 
Fig.  2.  The  tongue,  the  natural  size. 
Fig.  3.  The  claw  of  the  same  bu'd. 

Fig.  4.  The  skull  of  the  Babyrouessa,  from  a  specimen  in  the 
Anatomy  School,  Christ  Church,  Oxford. 

This  animal  is  nearly  the  size  of  tiie  common  hog,  and,  instead 
of  bristles,  is  covered  with  fine  short  and  woolly  hair,  of  a  deep 
brown  or  black  color.  It  is  also  distinguislied  by  the  extraordinaiy 
position  and  form  of  the  upper  tusks,  which  are  not  situated  on  the 
edge  of  the  jaw,  as  in  other  animals,  but  are  placed  externally, 
perforating  the  skm  of  the  snout,  and  turning  upwards  towards 
the  forehead. 

The  Babyrouessa  is  found  in  large  herds  in  many  parts  of  Java, 
Amboyna,  and  other  Indian  islands,  and  feeds  on  vegetables. 


244 


PLATE  XIX. 

THE    CHAMELEON,   AND    INTESTINE    OF    THE    SEA-FOX. 

Fig.  1.  The  chameleon,  dra\vn  from  one  of  the  specimens  preserv- 
ed in  the  Anatomy  School,  Christ  Church,  Oxford.  Tlie  eyes  of  this 
creature  are  very  pecuhar :  they  are  remarkably  large,  and  pro- 
ject more  than  half  their  diameter.  They  are  covered  with  a 
single  eyelid,  with  a  small  opening  in  it  opposite  the  ])upil.  The 
eyehd  is  granulated  like  every  part  of  the  surface  of  the  body, 
with  this  difference  ;  over  the  eye  the  granulations  are  disposed  in 
concentric  circles  which  form  folds  in  that  part  to  which  the  eye 
is  turned  ;  and  as  the  lid  is  attached  to  the  front  of  the  eye,  so  it 
follows  all  its  movements.  The  neck  is  not  inflexible,  but  its 
shortness,  and  the  structure  of  the  cervical  vertebrae  exceedingly  limit 
the  motion :  this,  however,  is  admirably  compensated  by  the  not 
less  singular  local  position  than  motion  of  the  eye,  as  the  animal 
can  see  behmd,  before,  or  on  either  side,  without  turning  the  head. 

Fig.  2.  The  spiral  intestine  of  the  sea-fox  cut  open ;  taken  from 
a  preparation  in  the  museum  of  the  Royal  College  of  Surgeons, 
London.  The  sea-fox  is  a  species  of  shark  {Squalus  vulpes).  The 
convoluted  intestinal  tube  is  also  found  in  some  other  genera  of 
fish.  In  this  specimen  the  internal  membrane  is  conveited  into  a 
spiral  valve,  having  thirty-six  coils ;  so  that  the  alimentary  sub- 
stances, instead  of  passing  speedily  away,  by  proceeding  round  the 
turns  of  the  valve,  traverse  a  very  considerable  circuit:  an  exten- 
sive surface  for  the  absorbents  is  thus  provided. 

Fig.  3.  The  spii-al  valve  removed,  showing  the  mode  of  its 
coilinsr. 


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«' 


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m. 


245 


PLATE  XX. 

CLAW  OF  THE  HERO>",  AND  BILL  OF  THE  SOLAND  GOOSE. 

Fig.  1.  The  middle  daw  of  the  heron. 

Fig.  2.  The  head  of  the  soland  goose  [Pelecanus  hassanus),  drawn 
from  a  specimen  iii  the  Ashmolean  JMuseum,  Oxford.  This  bird 
inhabits  the  coldest  parts  of  Great  Britain,  more  especially  the 
northern  isles  of  Scotland.  The  inhabitants  of  St.  Kilda  make  it 
their  principal  article  of  food,  and  are  said  to  consume  annually 
near  30,000  young  bu'ds,  beside  an  amazing  quantity  of  eggs. 
21* 


246 


PLATE   XXI. 

STOMACH    OF    THE    CAMEL. 

The  figure  in  this  plate  exhibits  the  cells  in  the  stomach  of  the 
camel,  from  a  preparation  in  the  museum  of  the  Royal  College  of 
Surgeons,  London.  In  the  camel,  dromedary,  and  lama,  there,  are 
four  stomachs,  as  in  honied  ruminants ;  but  the  structure,  in  some 
respects,  differs  from  those  of  the  latter.  The  camel  tribe  have,  in 
the  first  and  second  stomachs,  numerous  cells  several  inches  deep, 
formed  by  bands  of  muscular  fibres  crossing  each  other  at  right 
angles :  these  are  constructed  so  as  to  retain  the  water,  and  com- 
pletely exclude  the  food.  In  a  camel  dissected  by  Sir  E.  Home, 
the  cells  of  the  stomach  were  found  to  contain  two  gallons  of 
water ;  but  in  consequence  of  the  muscular  contraction,  which  had 
taken  place  immediately  after  death,  he  was  led  to  conclude  this 
was  a  quantity  much  less  than  these  cavities  were  capable  of  re- 
ceiving in  the  living  animal.  See  Lectures  on  Comparative  Anat- 
omy, by  Sir  E.  Home,  vol.  i.  p.  168. 

Mr.  Bruce  states,  in  his  Travels,  that  he  procured  four  gallons  of 
water  from  a  camel,  which  from  necessity  he  slaughtered  in  Upper 
Egypt. 


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I' 


i 


--^c-^^. 


"^^-^^'n--. 


247 


PLATE  XXII. 

SILK    SECRETORS    OF     THE    SILK-WORM — SPINNERETS    OF    THE    SPIDER 

PANORPA     COMMUNIS FEMALE    AND    MALE     GLOW-WORM LARVA     LI- 

BELLUL^ — BREATHING      SPIRACUL^ — PUPA      OF     GNAT STRATYOMTfS 

CHAMELEON. 

Fig.  1.  The  organs  for  forming  the  silk  consist  of  two  long  vessels. 
They  unite  to  form  the  spinneret  (fusulus),  through  which  the  larva 
draws  the  silken  thread  employed  in  fabricating  its  cocoon,  a,  a,  the 
silk  hags ;  b,  the  sjrinnerct. 

Fig.  2.  The  web  of  spiders  is  also  a  kind  of  silk,  remarkable  for  its 
lightness  and  tenuity;  it  is  spun  from  four  or  six  spinnerets,  the 
fluid  matter  forming  the  web  being  secreted  in  adjacent  vessels,  a,  b, 
c,  d,  the  spinnerets. 

Fig.  3.  Panorpa  communis  (Linn.)  is  an  insect  frequently  seen  in 
meadows  during  the  early  part  of  summer.  It  is  a  long-bodied  fly,  of 
moderate  size,  with  four  transparent  wings,  elegantly  variegated  with 
deep  brown  spots. 

Fig.  4.  The  female  glow-worm. 

Fig.  5.  The  male  of  the  same  insect.  , 

Fig.  G.  The  larva  of  some  dragon-flies  {JEshna  and  Lihelhda,  F.)  swim 
by  strongly  ejecting  water.  By  first  taking  in  the  water,  and  then  ex- 
pelling it.  they  are  enabled  to  swim.  This  may  be  seen  by  putting 
one  of  these  larvae  into  a  plate  with  water.  We  find  that  while  the 
animal  moves  forward,  a  current  of  water  is  produced  by  this  pumping 
in  a  contrary  direction.  Sometimes  it  will  raise  its  tail  above  the 
surface,  when  a  stream  of  water  issues  from  it. 

Fig.  7.  The  spiraculce,  or  breathing  pores  of  insects,  are  small  ori- 
fices in  the  trunk  or  abdomen,  opening  into  canals  called  the  trachea, 
ty  which  the  air  enters  the  body,  or  is  expelled  from  it.  In  the  larvse 
or  caterpillars,  a  trachea  runs  on  each  side  of  the  body,  under  the  skin, 
and  generally  opens  externally  by  nine  or  ten  apertures  or  spiraculae ; 
from  these  the  same  number  of  air-vessels,  of  a  silver  color,  pass  off"  to 
be  dispersed  through  the  body,     a,  a,  spiracul(B  ;  b,  b,  trachece. 

Fig.  8.  The  pupae  of  gnats  suspend  themselves  on  the  surface  of  the 
water,  by  two  ear-shaped  respiratory  organs  at  the  posterior  extremity 
of  the  body,  the  breast  being  doubled  upwards  upon  the  abdomen.  When 
disposed  to  descend,  the  animal  unfolds  it,  and  with  sudden  strokes  which 
she  gives  with  it,  she  swims  from  right  to  left,  as  well  as  upwards  and 
downwards,  with  the  greatest  ease. 

Fig.  9.  This  is  a  well-known  fly  (Stratijomijs  chamoileon,  F.),  chame- 
leon-fly. In  its  first  state  it  inhabits  the  water,  and  often  remains  sup- 
ported by  its  radiated  tail,  consisting  of  beautiful  feathered  hairs  or 
plumes,  on  the  surface,  with  its  head  downwards.  But  when  it  is  dis- 
posed to  seek  the  bottom,  or  to  descend,  the  radii  of  the  tail  are  formed 
into  a  concavity  including  in  it  an  air-bubble  ;  this  is  its  swim-blad- 
der, and  by  the  bending  of  its  body  from  right  to  left,  contracting  itself 
into  the  form  of  the  letter  S,  and  then  extending  itself  again  into  a 
(Straight  line,  it  moves  itself  in  any  direction. 


248 


PLATE  XXIII. 

THE  CAPSULE,  PISTIL,  STAMENS,  NIGELLA,  PLUMULA,  AND  RADICLE. 

Fig.  1.  The  capsule  or  seed-vessel  of  the  poppy  {Papaver  som- 
niferum) :  it  is  divided  to  exhibit  its  internal  structure. 

Fig.  2.  Is  an  histance  of  an  erect  flower,  the  Agave  Americana, 
in  which  the  pistil  is  shorter  than  the  stamens,  a,  the  pistil ;  6,  the 
stigma ;  c,  the  stamens ;  d,  the  anthers. 

Fia.  9.  A  flowpr  of  the  rrnwn  inwerial  iFritillaria  wwc*^"^^^)' 
The  relative  length  of  the  parts  is  now  inverted,  a,  the  pistil ;  6, 
the  stamens. 

Fig.  4.  A  blossom  of  the  Nigella. 

Fig.  5.  A  grahi  of  barley,  showing  the  plumula  and  radicle 
growing  from  it. 


^iliilil**^' 


wm"^^ 


»*!■. 


1 


///^ 


249 


\  PLATE   XXIV. 

VALLISNERIA. 

Fig.  1.  Vallisneria  spiralis.  The  female  plant,  the  flowers  of 
which  are  purple. 

Fig.  2.  The  male  plant,  producing  white  flowers:  these  when 
mature  rise  hke  air-bubbles,  and,  suddenly  expanding  when  they 
reach  the  surface  of  the  water,  float  about  in  such  abundance  as  to 
cover  it  entirely.  "  Thus  their  pollen  is  scattered  over  the  stigmas 
of  the  first-mentioned  blossoms,  whose  stalks  soon  afterwards  re- 
sume their  spiral  figure,  and  the  fruit  comes  to  maturity  at  the 
bottom  of  the  water." 

Fig.  3.  One  of  the  separated  maZe  flowers  magnified. 


250 


PLATE  XXV. 

TEMPORARY  AND  PERMANENT  TEETH. 

Fig.  1.  The  gums  and  outer  plate  of  the  bone  are  removed, 
showing  the  teeth  of  the  infant,  as  they  exist  at  the  time  of  its 
birth  :  they  are  without  roots,  and  contained  in  a  capsule  withm 
the  jaws. 

FiGf.  2.  In  this  figure,  also,  the  outer  alveolar  plate  of  the  jaws 
has  been  removed  to  show  the  succession  of  teeth.  This  is  the 
state  at  six  years  of  age.  The  teviporary  teeth  are  all  shed  be- 
tween the  ages  of  seven  and  fourteen,  and  are  supplied  by  the 
permanent  teeth,  already  nearly  perfectly  formed,  and  situated  at 
the  roots  of  the  former. 


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20 


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251 


PLATE   XXVI. 

THE    TENDONS    OF    THE    TOES. 

Fig.  1.  «,  the  tendon  of  the  longjiexor  of  the  toes,  which  divides 
about  the  middle  of  the  foot  into  four  portions,  passing  through 
the  shts  in,  h,  the  short  flexor  tendons.  Fig.  2.  explains  a  similar 
contrivance  belonging  to  each  finger :  or,  a  tendon  of  the  flexor 
suhlimis  ;  b,  a  tendon  of  the  flexor  profundus,  passing  through  it. 

Fig.  3.  a,  6,  tendons  of  the  extensor  muscles  of  the  toes  ;  c,  a 
tendon  of  a  flexor  of  the  foot.  These  are  bound  dow^n  and  retain- 
ed in  situ  by,  e,  the  annular  ligament  of  the  instep,  which  consists 
of  two  distinct  cross  bands,  going  from  the  outer  ankle  to  the  in- 
ner ankle  and  neighbormg  bones. 


252 


PLATE   XXVII. 

THE   LACTEALS,   AND    THORACIC    DUCT. 

The  figure  in  this  plate  represents  the  course  of  the  food,  from 
its  entrance  at  the  mouth  to  its  assimilation  with  the  blood :  a,  the 
(Rsophagus,  extending  from  the  pharynx  to,  &,  the  stomach ;  where 
the  alimentary  matter,  having  undergone  the  digestive  process,  is 
converted  into  chyme,  a  soft,  homogeneous  substance,  and  escapes 
at  c,  the  pylorus^  into  d,  the  intestines.  In  this  plate  a  large  portion 
of  the  latter  is  spread  out,  to  show  a  part  of  the  absorbent  system 
called  lacteals :  these  collect  and  imbibe  the  chyle,  or  milky  juice 
from  the  chyme,  and  transmit  it  through  e,  e,  the  mesenteric  glands, 
into  one  general  receptacle,  f  [receptacidum  chyli),  from  which,  g, 
the  thoracic  duct  ascends,  in  a  more  or  less  tortuous  direction,  to 
the  lower  vertebrae  of  the  neck,  and  after  forming  an  arch,  it  de- 
scends and  enters,  h,  the  left  subclavian  vein,  at  the  point  where 
that  vein  is  united  with  the  internal  jugular.  The  absorbents  of 
the  right  side  frequently  form  a  trunk,  which  enters  the  right  sub- 
clavian vein. 


,  I 


^  Gould,  Kendall,   S^  Lincoln's  Publications. 


\  *- 


1 


\  qpiIE     ORIGIN    AND    HISTORY    OF    MISSIONS ;  ^ 

\    -■-    a  Record  of  the  Voyages,  Travels,  Labors,  and  Sue-  \ 

V  cesses  of  the  various  Missionaries,  who  have  been  sent  forth  ^ 
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\  complete  Missionary  Repository;  illustrated  by  numerous  \ 
\  Engravings,  from  original  Drawings  made  expressly  for  this  v 
s  Work.  BytheRev.JoHNO.CHOULES,  New  Bxlford,  Mass.,  v 
\  and  the  Rev.  Thomas  Smith,  late  Minister  of  Trinity  Chapel,  v 
\  London.     Fourth  Edition,  continued  to  the  present  time.      \ 

^  The  original  cost  of  the  stereotype  plates,  engravings,  &c.,  to  this  work,    V 

\  considerably  exceeded  $7000,  which  necessarily  so  enhanced  the  price  of    \ 

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>  The  present  proprietors,  having  purchased  the  work  at  a  considerable  de-  \ 
\  duction  from  cost,  and  l>eing  desirous  of  placing  it  within  the  reach  of  \ 
\  every  one  wishing  to  possess  this  valuable  repository  of  missionary  intelli-  ^ 
^  gence,  have  determined  to  put  it  at  the  very  low  price  of  .$7  per  copy,  trusting  ^ 
\  that  by  this  means  it  will  receive  from  an  enlightened  Christian  community  \ 
\  the  extensive  patronage  which  the  merits  ahd  imimrtance  of  the  work  de-  \ 

V  mand.  .  V 
\  RECOMMENDATIONS.  < 
\  The  plan  and  object  of  the  Origin  and  History  of  Mis-  \ 
\  SIGNS  having  been  submitted  to  us,  w^e  beg  leave  most  cordially  > 
^  to  recommend  it  to  the  attention  of  the  religious  public,  con-  \ 
\  sidering  it  highly  calculated  to  extend  the  interest  vi'hicli  is  al-  \ 
\  ready  felt  on  behalf  of  the  great  missionary  enterprise.                    ^ 

\t>         -d  s.  .      „      .  t\    t\    ^  Secretaries    of   the  American  \ 

\  Rev.  RuFus  Anderson,  D.  D.,>       r>       j      c     r^         •     •  v 

\  x>         T\      .  n^  \      Board    of     Commissioners  » 

V  Rev.  David  (jtreene,  >  ^  r-  ■  jr-  •  > 
^                                            '                    (     jor  horeign  Missions.  \ 

^  Rev.  Lucius  Bolides,  D.  D.,   Corresponding   Secretary  of  the  \ 

\  Baptist  Board,  of  Foreign  Missions.  \ 

\  Rev.  P.  Van  Pelt,  Jr.,  Secretary  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  \ 

^  Missionary  Society.  \ 

V  Rev.  Wilbur  Fiske,  D.  D.,  President  of  the  Wesleyan  Univer-  \ 
\  sity.  Midd'etoion,  Conn.  ^ 

V  Rev.  Francis  Wayland,D.  D.,  President  of  Broicn  University,  \ 
S  Providence,  R.  I.  \ 

V  Rev.  Daniel  Sharp,  D.  D.,  Boston.  \ 
\  Rev.  B.  B.  WisNER,  D.  D.,  Boston.  < 
i  Rev.  John  Codman,  D.  D.,  Dorchester,  Mass.                                  \ 

>  Rev.  Howard  Malcom,  Boston.                                                       \ 

V  Rev.  William  Jenks,  D.  D.,  Boston.  \ 
\  Rev.  James  D.  Knowles,  Professor  of  Pastoral  Duties,  New-  \ 
\  ton  Theological  Institution.  \ 
\  Rev.  Baron  Stow,  Boston.                                                              \ 


\  Gould,  Kendall,  Sf  Lincoln's  Publications.  \ 

\        .^*,^, ^V^^W.^ >~>^>>^^>V^.>..^>^^»»>>v>^^>^^>>^>,>>.^.>V^.V»         \ 

^  Rev.  William  Hague,  Boston.  \ 

N  Rev.  Warren  Fay,  D.  D.,  Charlestown,  Mass.  > 

\   Rev.  Irah  Chase,  Professor  of  Biblical  Theol.  JYewton,  Mass.  \ 

\  Rev.  Henry  J.  Ripley,  Professor  Biblical  Lit.,  JVewton,  Mass.  \ 

\  Rev.  John  P.  Cleaveland,  Detroit.  \ 
N  Rev.  RuFus  Babcock,  D.  D.,  Philadelphia. 
\  Rev.  Enoch  W.  Freeman,  Lowell,  Mass. 
\  Key.  Sylvester  Holmes,  JYew  Bedford. 

^  Rev.  David  Smith,  D.  D.,  Durham,  Conn.  \ 

\  Rev.  Samuel  Cox,  D.  D.,  JVeic  York.  \ 

\  Rev.  Gardiner  Spring,  D.  D.,  JVew  York.  \ 

»    Rev.  Spencer  H.  Cone,  A''eic  York.  y 

^  Rev.  Charles  G.  Sommers,  J\''ew  York.  » 

\  Rev.  Robert  M'Cartee,  D.  D.,  Pennsylvania.  \ 

\  Rev.   G.  M.  Matthews,  D.  D.,  JVew  York.  \ 

\  Rev.  Archibald  Maclay,  .JVeio  York.  ^ 

S  Rev.  C.  C.  CuYLER,  D.  D.,  Poughkeepsie,  JVeiD  York.  \ 

\  Rev.  Ezra  Fisk,  D.  D.,  Goshen,  JYew  York.  \ 

\  Rev.  B.  T.  Welch,  D.  D.,  Albany.  ^ 

y  Rev.  A.  Kendrick,  D.D.,  Hamilton  Theol.  Seminary,  J{.  Jersey.  > 

\  Rev.  A.  Alkxand-eKjD.D., Theol.  Seminary, P7-inceton,A''.  Jersey.  > 

V  Rev.  Gilbert  Livingston,  D.  D.,  Dutch  Ref  Church,  Phila.  \ 

\  Rev.  G.  T.  Bedell,  D.  D.,  Rector  of  St.Andreio's  Church,  Phila.  \ 

\  Rev.  W.  T.  Brantley,  D.  D.,  Philadelphia.  \ 

\  Rev.  Ezra  Stiles  Ely,  D.  D.,  Missouri.  \ 

\  Rev.  John  Breckenridge,  D.  D.,  Princeton.  \ 

\  Rev.  J.  L.  Dagg,  Philadelphia.  \ 

^  Rev.  Thomas  M'Auley,  D.  D.,  Philadelphia.  \ 

\  Rev.  Luther  Halsey,  Professor  in  the  Theological  Institution  \ 

\  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  Pittsburg,  Penn.  \ 

Rev.  John  Finlay,  Baltimore.  ^ 

Rev.  William  Nevins,  D.  D.,  Baltimore.  \ 

Rev.  Stephen  Chapin,  D.  D.,  President  of  Columbian  College,  \ 

Washington  City.  \ 

Rev.  John  Pratt,  Principal  of  Literary  and  Theological  Insti-  ^ 

tution,  Granville,  Ohio.  \ 

Rev.  John  C.  Young,  President  of  Centre  College,  Danville,  Ken.  \ 

\  Rev.  A.  W.  Leland,  D.  D.,  Charleston,  S.  C.  \ 

\    [Extract  from  the  Report  of  the  Committee  of  the  Baptist  General  Convention    \ 
\  on  Publications.]  \ 

\  The  Origin  and   History  of   Missions,  by  the  Rev.  J.  O.  \ 

\  Choules,  having  been  referred  to  the  notice  of  this  Committee,  \ 

^  they  have  fully  examined  the  number  already  printed,  and  pos-  ^ 

>  sessod  thcmseivps  of  the  views  of  the  conductors  of  the  work.  \ 


\  The  Committee  are  happy  to  express  their  entire  confidence  in  \ 

\  the   qualifications  of  the  author,  and  belief  that  the  work  will  \ 

^  riclily  merit  the  attention  of  the  rehgious  public.  ^ 

\  > 


Gould,  Kendall,   S^  Lincoln's  Publications. 


\  IV/rAMMON;  (Prize  Essay;)  qi-,  Covetousiiess  the  Sin 
\  _LtJ_  of  the  Christian  Church. 


Author  of  the  "  Great  Teacher." 
the  Tenth  London  Edition. 


By  Rev.  Johin  Harris, 
Second  American,  from 


This  work  has  already  engaged  the  attention  of  churches  and  individuals, 

and  receives  the  highest  commendations.     The  publishers  take  pleasure  in  \ 

presenting  the  foliowing  united  reconnnendation  from  clergymen  in  this  ^ 

city  :—  ^ 

Having  read  the  Prize  Essay  of  the  Rev.  John  Harris,  entitled  \ 
'^  Mammon,  or  Covetousness  the  Sin  of  the  Christian  Church,"  \ 
\  we  cordially  recommend  it  as  deserving  the  serious  perusal  of  \ 
^   the  professed  followers  of  Christ.  ^ 

\  Its  general  circulation  will  be  a  powerful  means  of  increasing  \ 
\  the  spirituality  of  the  churches,  and  of  advancing  every  good  \ 
\  work  which  depends  in  any  measure  upon  pecuniary  contri-  ^ 
\  butions.  i^    Anderson, 

*  David  Greene, 

>  Daniel  Sharp, 
S  Wm.  M.  Rogers, 
\  Jotham  Horton, 
^  Baron  Stow, 

>  Wm.  Hague, 
\  George  B.  Ide, 
v                                  Geo.  W.  Blagden 


J.  H.  Fairchild, 
S.  S.  Mallery, 
Hubbard  Winslow, 
Lucius  Bolles, 
Abel  Stevens, 
Wm.  Jenks, 
A.  Boies, 

D.  M.  Lord, 

E.  Thresher. 


S  [From  the  Christian  Watchman.]                                       > 

V  We  wish  not  only  to  add  our  testimony  to  the  excellency  of  ^ 

\  this  book,  but  to  urge  it  upon  the  attention  of  our  readers.     We  \ 

\  commend  it  to  the  attention  of  business  men,  and  especially  \ 

>  young  men.                                                                                              \ 

\  [From  the  New  York  Observer.]                                       \ 

\  We  have  read  this  work  with  great  interest,  and  recommend  \ 

\  it  as  equally  rich  in  evangelical  principle,  philosophical  analysis,  \ 
and  practical  application.                                                                       ^ 

\ 

\ 

notice,  we  have  never  felt  our  inability  to  do  justice  to  any  of  > 
them,  to  such  an  extent  as  to  the  one  now  before  us.  It  exhib-  \ 
its  the  writer  as  a  man  of  superior  intellectual  power,  and  gifted  \ 
with  talents  which,  if  rightly  applied  and  heeded,  may  yet  be  ^ 
^  destined  to  move  the  moral  world.     His  eloquence  is  the  elo-  \ 


[From  the  Philadelphia  Observer.] 
This  neat  little  volume,  on  the  important  subject  of  which  it 
treats,  we  have  read  with  much  satisfaction.     The  author  han- 
dles it  in  a  masterly  manner.  *  *  *  Our  hope  is,  that  it  will  be 
extensively  read. 

[From  Zion's  Herald.] 
Among  all  the  books  which  have  fallen  into  our  hands  to 


i 


Gould^  Kendall^  S^  Lincoln's  Puhlications.  \ 

quence  of  reason,  founded  in  the  records  of  eternal  truth.  His  v 
sentiments  are  a  wonderful  concentration  of  truth  and  wisdom,  ^ 
carrj^ing  with  them  such  convincing  power,  as  must  strip  ava-  N 
rice  of  its  coat  of  mail,  and  turn  the  streams  of  extravagance  " 
into  the  channel  of  universal  love.  His  style  is  so  entirely  free 
of  cumbrous  words,  that  the  whole  book  resembles  a  series  of 
epigrammatical  sentences,  each  one  conveying,  in  a  few  lines, 
that  for  which,  in  many  writers,  we  have  to  travel  over  pages. 


[From  the  Southern  Religious  Telegraph.] 
Its  appearance  is   highly  seasonable.     Its   title   may  appear 
repulsive  to  some  members  of  the  church.     Mammon  !     Who  is 

willing  to  be  recognized  as  a  disciple  of  Mammon  ?    *  *  *    The  ^ 

power  and  spirit  in  which  it  is  written,  the   noble   thoughts  of  \ 

the  writer,  nobly  expressed,  will  commend  it  to  their  attention,  \ 

and  they  will  read  and  admire  it,  even  if  they  decide  that  they  \ 

will  not  repent.  ^ 

[From  the  Biblical  Recorder,  Newburn,  N.  C]  ^ 

The  extent  and  ruinous  consequences  of  the  sin  of  which  this  \ 

work  treats,  even  among  professors  of  religion,  we  have  long  ^ 

been    fully  apprized  of.     The  publication  of  the  above-named  \ 

work  in  this  country,  we    therefore    consider    seasonable    and  v 

happy.  \ 

[From  the  RichMond  Religious  Herald.]  \ 

The  work  attacks  with  much  force  this  insidious  vice.     Mr.  \ 

Harris  is  a  fearless  and  energv^tic  writer.  His  style  is  close,  \ 
nervous  and  lucid,  and  his  hab.'ts  of  thinking  highly  original. 
The  topics  he  selects  are  judiciously  selected,  and  impressive- 
ly enforced.  The  present  treati&e  has  fully  answered  ovir  ex- 
pectations ;  and  we  earnestly  trust  it  will  be  extensively  read, 
and  be  productive  of  much  good. 

[Extract  from  an  extended  Notice  in  tlie  Christian  Review.] 
We  hail  this  volume  with  heartfelt  pleasure.     Its  appearance 

is   most    seasonable.     It  will    commend    itself  to  all  who  will  < 

peruse  its  pages  ;  and  we  trust  that  its  solemn  and  powerful  ap-  \ 

peals  to  conscience  and  duty  may  be  productive  of  the  happiest  \ 

results.     We  do  earnestly  advise  the  pastors  of  churches  to  take  N 

pains    to  promote  the  circulation  and  perusal  of  this  masterly  \ 

production  among  their  congregations.  \ 

[A  correspondent  of  the  Boston  Recorder  says,]  \ 

O  that  Christian   professors    generally  could   be  induced  to  ^ 

read,  with  a  teachable  spirit,  this   pungent,  soul-stirring  appeal,  \ 

and  then  examine  how  clearly  and  frequently  the  Scriptures  \ 

place  the  covetous  with  "  idolaters,"  who  "  have  no  inheritance  \ 

in  the  kingdom  of  Christ  and  of  God."  ^ 


V  Gould,  Kendall,  4'  Lincoln's  Publications.  \ 

\ i 


\  MEMOIR  OF  GEORGE  DANA  BOARDMAN,  ^ 


\ 

\  LATE  3I1SSIONARY  TO  BURMAH,  \ 

\  \ 

\  CONTAINING   MUCH    INTELLIGENCE    RELATIVE    TO  THE  \ 

\  \ 

\  BURMAN    MISSION.  \ 

\  BY  REV.  ALONZO   KING,  OF  Northeoro',Mass.  \ 

^  A  correct  likeness  of  Mr.  Boardman,  engraved  on  steel,  from  a  painting  in  ^ 

^  possession  of  the  family,  and  a  beautiful  vignette  representing  the  bap-  \ 

^  tismal  scene  just  before  his  death,  have  been  added.  ^ 


\ 

\  [From  Rev.  J.  O.  Choules,  of  New  Bedford.]                             \ 

\  J  have  read  the  Memoir  of  Boardman  with  great  satisfaction.  \ 

^  *  *  *     The  great  charm  in  the  character  of  Mr.  Boardman  was  \ 

N  his  fervent  piety  ;  and  his  biographer  has  succeeded  admirably  \ 

\  in  holding  him  up  to  the  Christian  world  as  the  pious  student,  N 

\  the  faithful  minister,  and  the  self-denying,  laborious  missionary.  \ 

\  To  the  student,  to  the  Christian  minister,  it  will  be   a  valuable  \ 

\  book,  and  no  Christian  can  peruse  it  without  advantage.     I  hope  ^ 

\  our  ministering  brethren  will  aid  in  the  circulation  of  the  Me-  \ 

^  moir.     Every  church  will  be  benefited  by  its  diffusion  among  \ 

>  its  members.              Yours,  &c.,                   John  O.  Choules.       ^ 

V  [From  the  Christian  Watchman.]  ^ 

^  This  Memoir  belongs  to  that  small  class  of  books,  which  may  ^ 

\  be  read  with  interest  and  profit  by  every  one.     It  comprises  so  > 

X  much  of  interestiiig  history  ;  so  much  of  simple  and  pathetic  V 

^  narrative,  so  true  to  nature ;  and  so  much  of  correct  moral  and  \ 

\  religious  sentiment,  that  it  cannot  fail  to  interest  persons  of  all  \ 

\  ages  and  of  every  variety  of  taste.  ^ 

^  [From  Rev  Baron  Stow.]  \ 

^  No  one  can  read  the  Memoir  of  Boardman,  without  feeling  \ 
\  that  the  religion  of  Christ  is  suited  to  purify  the  affections,  e.xalt  \ 
\  the  purposes,  and  give  energy  to  the  character.  Mr.  Boardman  ^ 
\  was  a  man  of  rare  excellence,  and  his  biographer,  by  a  just  ex-  ^ 
^  hibition  of  that  excellence,  has  rendered  an  important  service,  \ 
\  not  only  to  the  cause  of  Christian  missions,  but  to  the  interests  \ 
\  of  personal  godhness.  ^ 

\  Yours,  with  esteem,  Earon  Stow.       ^ 


^•xx^*'-'^^x>'^^^^^^^^*»^^^^^^>«^^^^^^xx<'^^^^^^^-'^-'^^*»^-<5> 


Gould,  Kendall,  S^  Lincoln's  Publications.  \ 

MEMOIR    OF    MRS.  ANN    H.  JUDSON, 


V 

\ 

\ 

\ 

LATE  MISSIONARY  TO  BURMAH.  ^ 

New   and   EnlargedEdition.  ^ 

\ 

\ 

Including  a  History  of  the  American  Baptist  Mission  in  the  Bur-  \ 
man  Empire  to  the  present  Time.  \ 

BYJAMESD.KNOWLES,  \ 

Professor  of  Pastoral  Duties  in  the  Newton  Theological  Institution.  \ 

\ 

EMBELLISHED    WITH    ENGRAVINGS. 


\ 

\  Twenty-five  thousand  copies  of  this  work  have  been  sold  in  the  United  ^ 

\  States,  besides  several  editions  in  England.     It  has  also  been  printed  in  \ 

\  French,  and   is   about  to  be  pu>blished  in   the  German  language ;   which  \ 

\  shows  that  it  is  a  work  of  no  ordinary  interest.  ^ 


\  [Extract  from  Mrs.  Hale's  Ladies'  Magazine.]                             \ 

>  We    are    glad   to   announce  this  work  to  our  readers.     The  \ 

\  character  of  Mrs.  Judson  is  an  honor  to  American  ladies.     The  \ 

\  ardent  faith  that  incited  her  to  engage  in   an   enterprise   so  full  \ 

\  of  perils  ;  the  fortitude  she  exhibited  under  trials  which  it  seems  ^ 

^  almost  incredible  a  delicate  woman  could  have  surmounted  ;  her  \ 

\  griefs,  and  the  hopes  that  supported  her.  should  be  read  in  her  \ 

\  own  expressive  language.     Her  talents  were  unquestionably  of   ^ 

^  a  high  order;  but  the  predominant  quality  of  her  mind  was  its  V 

\  energy.     The  work  contains,  besides  the  life  of  Mrs.  Judson,  a  \ 

N  History  of  the  Burman  Mission,  with  a  sketch  of  the  Geography,  ^ 

^  &c.,  of  that  country,  and  a  Map  accompanying,  and  a  beautifully  ^ 

^  engraved  portrait  of  Mrs.  Judson.                                                         ^ 

\  [From  the  London  New  Baptist  Miscellany.]                             V 

\  This  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  pieces  of  female  biography  ^ 

\  v/hicli  has  ever  come  under  our  notice.     No  quotation,  which  \ 
^  our  limits   allow,  would  do  justice   to  the  facts,  and  we  must  \ 

J  therefore  refer  our  readers  to  the  volume  itself.    It  ought  to  be  ^ 

\  immediately  added  to  every  family  library.                                        ^ 


\           Gould,  Kendall,   4*  Lincoln's  Publications.  \ 

X  ^.^________ __  V 

\  jyrEMOIR  OF  REV.  WILLIAM  CAREY,  D.  D.,  forty  \ 
\  J.TJ.  Years  Missionary  in  India.   By  Rev.  Eustace  Carey.  ^ 

V  With  an  Introductory  Essay,  by  Francis  Wayland,  D.  D.,  \ 
\  President  of  Brown  University.  With  a  correct  Likeness.  \ 
\  \ 
\  [From  the  Monthly  Paper  of  the  Baptist  General  Tract  Society.]  ^ 
^       This  is  a  work  of  surpassing  interest,  which  no  Christian  can  ^ 

V  read  without  profit.  The  mechanical  execution  is  excellent,  N 
\  and  reflects  much  credit  on  the  enterprising  publishers.  They  \ 
\  have  given  to  the  American  public  an  imperishable  work,  that  \ 
^  will  be  perused  with  intense  interest  by  generations  yet  unborn.  > 
N  We  have  seldom,  if  ever,  read  a  book  which  has  impressed  V 
\  us  with  such  a  conviction  of  the  importance  of  its  being  most  \ 
S  extensively  circulated.  With  the  Memoir  of  our  own  Mrs.  ^ 
\  Judson,  it  ought  to  have  a  place  in  every  family  and  in  every  > 
J  library.  "^   ^ 

[From  the  Boston  Recorder.]  \ 

A  Memoir  of  Dr.  Carey  must  of  necessity  give  an  account  of  \ 
the  rise  of  Baptist  Missions  in  the  East  Indies,  their  embarrass-  \ 
ments,  their  struggles,  and  their  success.  For  this  reason,  as  \ 
well  as  on  account  of  the  character  of  Dr.  Carey,  it  must  be  a  N 
work  of  intense  interest.  x 

[From  Zion'3  Herald.]  \ 

The  compiler  observes  in  his  Preface,  that  his  endeavor  has  \ 

^  been  to  exhibit  the  Christian  and  the  missionary,  rather  than  the  > 

V  scholar.  We  think  he  has  succeeded.  It  is  in  the  character  of  \ 
\  a  Christian  missionary  that  Dr.  Carey  preeminently  shines.  It  \ 
<  was  through  his  labors,  under  the  blessing  of  God,  that  a  char-  ^ 
^  acter  and  stability  were  given  to  missionary  operations  in  India,  ^ 
\  which  have  justly  made  them  the  admiration  of  the  Christian  \ 
\  world.  We  compliment  the  publishers  for  the  beautiful  style  in  \ 
\  which  they  have  issued  this  book.  > 

\  [From  the  Richmond  Religious  Herald.]  ^ 

^  The  name  of  Carey  awakens  feelings  of  the  most  interesting  \ 
^  character  in  the  mind  of  every  reflecting  Christian,  whose  heart  ^ 
\  is  alive  to  the  prosperity  of  the  Redeemer's  kingdom  on  earth,  and  \ 
\  who  longs  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of  a  perishing  world.  The  life  \ 
^  of  the  founder  of  modern  missions,  the  pioneer  in  those  efforts  \ 
^  which,  we  believe,  are  destined  to  fill  the  whole  earth  with  the  ^ 
\  glory  of  God,  and  to  cause  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth  to  become  \ 
\  the  kingdoms  of  the  Lord,  cannot  be  perused  with  ordinary  \ 
\  emotions,  nor  without  feelings  of  devout  gratitude,  that   God  ^ 

V  was  pleased,  in  his  own  time,  to  raise  up  an  instrument  so  well  S 

V  qualified  for  the  mighty  undertaking.  \ 


^^if<V»« 


Gould,  Kendall,  S^  LincoMs  Publications. 


THE  COMPLETE  WORKS  of  the  Rev.  ANDREW 
FULLER  ;  with  a  Menioh-  of  his  Life.  By  AxNdrew 
GuNTOis  Fuller.  In  two  volumes.  With  a  correct  Like- 
ness. 

This  valuable  work  is  now  published  in  two  large  octavo  volumes,  on 
fair  type  and  tine  paper,  at  a  very  low  price.  The  co-t  of  former  editions 
($14)  precluded  many  froui  posse:^sing  it.  The  publishers  are  gratified  in 
being  able  to  ofl'.n-  to  the  Christi.m  public  a  work,  replete  with  doctrinal  ar- 
guments and  practical  religion  at  a  price  so  reduced  that  every  one  desiring 
such  a  work  mjy  possess  it. 


FFrom  Rev.  Lyman  Beecher,  D.  D.] 
Gentlemen  : — I  cheerfully  accord  the  testimony  of  my  high 
approbation  to  the  Works  of  Andrew  Fuller.  He  is  one  of  the 
few  great,  original,  and  holy  men,  whom  God  occasionally  raises 
^  up  to  dispel  the  mists  which  gather  about  the  truth,  and  bring 
^  out  the  unobscured  illumination  of  the  Word  of  God.  No  hu- 
\  man  mind  has  ever  been  unerring  in   all  its  expositions  of  re- 


\  vealed  truth  ;  but  Edwards  and  Fuller  have  comprehended,  in  \ 
\  my  opinion,  both  the  letter  and  spirit  of  the  Bible  in  an  eminent  > 
V  degree.     With  both  I   have   been   deeply  conversant,  from  the 
\  commencement  of  my  ministry  to  the  present  day,  and  have  uni- 
\  formly  and   earnestly  recommended  to  theological  students  and 
^  young  ministers,  to  imbue  their  minds  with  their  heavenly  dispo- 


sitions, to  acquire  their  habits  of  accurate  definition  and  discrim- 
ination, while  they  possess  themselves  of  their  judicious  opin- 
ions and  powerful  arguments.  A  better  service  for  the  truth, 
to  the  present  day,  can  scarcely  be  done,  than  by  the  extensive 
circulation  of  the  Works  of  Andrew  Fuller.  May  it  please  the 
Lord  to  give  you  great  success  in  the  enterprise. 

Yours  respectfully,  Lyman  Beecher. 

[A  reviewer  says,] 

This  work,  in  the  material  and  style  of  execution,  is  highly 

creditable  to  the  American  press.     The  publishers,  in  issuing 

this  work,  have  conferred  an  obligation  upon  the  community, 

and  will  doubtless  be  rewarded  in  a  liberal  return  of  their  in- 

S  vestment.     Mr.  Fuller  was  among  the  few  extraordinary  men  < 

\  who  have  ever  appeared  in  this  world.     He  possessed  a  great  \ 

vigor  of  intellect,  and  an  uncommon  share  of  good  sense,  inflex-  - 

ible  integrity,  and  the  most  ardent  love  of  truth. 

[Another  reviewer  says,] 
The  Works  of  Andrew  Fuller  have  been  before  the  public  for 
several  years.     Public  opinion  has  passed  on  them  its  decisive 
sentence.     They  have  taken  their  place  among  the  standard  \ 
\  theological  writings  in  the  English  language 


\  Gould,  Kendall,  Sf  Lincoln's  Publications. 

\  THE    FOUR    GOSPELS; 

^  WITH    NOTES, 

\  CHIEFLY     explanatory; 

\  INTENDED    PRINCIPALLY    FOR 

^  SabbatJ  Sci)ool  2reac!)ers  anti  33ible  Classes, 

\  AND    AS 

\  AN    AID   TO    FAMILY   INSTRUCTION. 

^  BY  HENRY  J.  RIPLEY, 

\  Professor  of  Biblical  Literature  iind  Interpretation  in  Newton  Theological 

J  Institution. 


>  ■  [Extracts  from  the  Preface.] 
\       In  the  following  Notes,  I  have  endeavored  to  avoid  prolixity, 

>  and  3'^et  not  to  pass  over,  without  explanation,  passages  that 
\  really  need  explanation.  *  *  *  A  person  who  may  use  this  book, 
\  either  for  personal  information,  or  for  enabling  him  to  instruct 
^  others,   must  submit  to  some   labor.     Frequently   passages  of 

>  Scripture  are  merely  referred  to,  and  the  benefit  to  be  drawn 
\  from  those  passages  will  require  that  they  be  examined.  Par- 
^  ticularly  will  this  be  found  necessary  in  the  case  of  a   Sabbath 

>  School  teacher,  or  the  leader  of  a  Bible  Class.  If  such  a  person 
\  depends  on  this  book  as  a  help,  he  will  not  find  his  work  all  done 
\  for  him  here  ;  but  he  will  find,  I  trust,  materials  aiforded  him, 
^  by  which  he  may  do  his  icork  himself. 

\  Such  is  the  nature  of  the  work  I  proposed  to  myself  in  this  book, 
v  that  I  have  not  felt  at  liberty,  even  if  I  had  been  disposed  or  ^ 
\  able,  to  indulge  in  flights  of  fancy,  or  to  seek  any  rhetorical  \ 
^  excellence,  beyond  a  perspicuous  and  simple  statement  of  facts  \ 
\  or  opinions.  Nor  have  I  made  many  moral  reflections.  Some-  ^ 
\  times  I  have  suggested  topics  of  pious  meditation  and  of  useful  \ 
^  practical  remark  ;  at  other  times,  I  have   not  done  so.     I   have  \ 

>  been  guided,  in  this  matter,  by  the  nature  of  diflerent  passages,  \ 
S  and  by  the  iinpressions  on  my  own  mind.  ^ 
V  That  my  views  of  some  passages  should  differ  from  those  of  \ 
\  other  writers,  is  to  be  expected  ;  but  that  I  have  endeavored  to  \ 
\  convey  to  my  readers  the  mind  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  to  slied  ^ 
S  light  over  a  part  of  the  sacred  volume,  is  my  delightful  con-  \ 
\  sciousness.  The  usefulness  of  the  eff()rt  must  be  left  to  Hini,  v 
\  from  whom  come  all  good  desires  and  designs,  whose  blessing  is  ^ 
^  necessary  for  every  undertaking,  and  "  whose  approbation  can  \ 
\  prosper  even  mine."  ^ 

9 


1 


\            Gould,  Kendall,   Sf  Lincoln's  Publications.  \ 

\ ^  ^^ 

\  TVrALCOM'S  BIBLE  DICTIONARY,  Stereotyped  and 

\  ^^     Enlarged.  —  A   Dictionary  of   the  most  important  \ 

\  Names,  Objects,  and  Terms,  fonnd  in  the  Holy  Scriptures  ;  \ 

\  intended  principally  for  Sunday  School  Teachers  and  Bible  \ 

\  Classes.      By    Howard    Malcom,  A.  M.     Illustrated    by  \ 

\  thirty-nine  Engravings  on  Wood,  a  Map  of  Palestine,  and  > 

^  an  elegant  Copperplate  Frontispiece  \ 

\                     [From  the  Minutes  of  the  Vermont  State  Convention.]  \ 

\       Your  Committee  earnestly  recommend  Malcom's  Bible  Die-  ^ 

\  tionary,  a  new   work,  the  worth  of  which  every  lover   of  the  ^ 

^  Bible  will  feel,  and  the  low  price  of  which  places  it  within  the  > 

\  reach  of  the  poorest.  \ 

\                           [From  the  Minutes  of  the  Boston  Association.]  S 

^       Believing  that  the   advantages  of  Sabbath   School  and  Bible  > 

\   Class  instruction   depend   greatly  on  the  intelligence   of  their  \ 

\  teachers,  and  that  the  extended  circulation  of  Malcom's  Bible  \ 

^  Dictionary  would  conduce  to  their  better  qualification, — Resolved,  \ 

\  That  this  work  be  recommended  to  the  patronage  of  the  friends  > 

\  of  early  rehgious  instruction.  \ 

\  ous  Exercises  on  the  Sacred  Scriptures.  By  E.  Lincoln.  \ 
\  Revised  and  improved  by  an  eminent  Clergyman  and  a  \ 
\  Superintendent.  \ 

\  V 

\  The  present  edition  has  been  thoroughly  revised  and  enlarged  by  gentle-  \ 

^  men  well  qialitied  for  the  task.     The  book,  in  its  present  shape,  is  one  of  > 

\  the  cheapest  and  most  complete  of  tiie  kind  now  in  use.     Among  the  many  \ 

V  recommendations  of  the  work,  we  select  the  following,  which  have  been  > 

^  received  within  a  few  days.  ^ 


INCOLN'S  SABBATH  SCHOOL  CLASS  BOOK.  \ 

The  Sabbath  School  Class  Book,  comprising  copi-  \ 


\  [From  Rev.  Dr.  Going  of  New  York.]  S 

\       A  careful  examination  of  the  Sabbath  School  Class  Book  con-  \ 

\  vinced  me  of  its  high  excellence,  and  observation  of  its   utility  \ 

^  in  practice  has  strengthened  the   con  vie.  ion.     I  therefore  fully  ^ 

\  recommend  it  as  being  the  best  work  for  Sabbath  Schools  now  S 

\  in  use.  Jonathan  Going.       \ 

^       Gentlemen  : — Having  examined  your  Sabbath  School  Class  > 

\  Book,  it  gives  us  pleasure  to  express  our  satisfaction  with   its  \ 

\  design  and  execution.     The  great   benefit  which  a  good  class  \ 

>  book  accomplishes,  consists  in  guiding  the  mind  of  the  scholar  ^ 

, ,. ,. ........... ^ 


\  Gould,  Kendall,  S^  Lincohi's  Publications.           \ 

\. 5 

\  in  the  study  of  his  lesson,  and  in  suggesting  topics  of  conver-  \ 

^  sation  to  the  teaclier.     To  this  end  we  think  your  work  is  well  ^ 

>  adapted,  having  avoided,  in  a  great  degree,  the  evils  of  extreme  N 
\  redundance  or  conciseness.  \ 
\  W.  Hague,  E.  Thresher,  \ 
^  C.  P.  Grosvenor,        H.  Malcom,          ^ 

>  L.  BoLLES,  Baron  Stow.        \ 

\  ^N 

^  A   GUIDE  TO    CONVERSATION  ON    THE    NEW  ^ 

N  J:\.    TESTAMENT ;     designed   for  the   Use   of    Bible  ^ 

\  Classes   and  Sabbath  Schools.     By  Rev.  William  Hague.  ^ 

^  Vol.  I.,  containing  the  Gospel  according  to  St.  Matthew.       ^ 

\  The  object  of  this  work  is  t-wo-fold  .•  —  1st.   To  facilitate  the  efforts  of  the   ^ 

N  teaciiers  in  cominiinicatins  iiistrmtion  to  their  cjis^es:  —  2d.   'J'o  excite  a  \ 

^  spirit  of  inquiry  a  nongst  the  (lasses  themselves.     To  ihi-eiiH,  suchq  lestions   ^ 

\  are  asked,  as  are  adapted  to  lead  the  mind  to  thinl;.  and  only  sucli  as  the   \ 

^  scholar,  with  the  Bible  in  his  hand,  may  be  expected  to  answer,  by  the  aid   \ 

^  of  his  own  reflecting  power.     The  questions  are  interspersed  with  familiar  ^ 

\  remarks,  wliich  aredesiirned  to  convey  to  the  scholar  such  information  as   \ 

^  may  not  be  within  his  reach,  and  also  to  keep  up  a  coiitinuous  conversation   ^ 

\  between  the  teacher  and  the  class.                                                                        \ 

^  -  INCOLN'S    SCRIPTURE    QUESTIONS,  with  the  ^ 


<  T  ] 

\  ^^     Answer    annexed,   giving,   in   the  Language  of   the  s 

\  Sacred  Volume,  interesting  Portions  of  the  History,  and  a  ^ 

\  concise  View  of  the  Doctrines  and  Duties,  exhibited  in  the  ^ 

^  Bible.  ^ 

\       Where  Bibles  cannot  be  furnished  to  each  scholar,  the  Scripture  Quea-  \ 

^   tions  may  ba  used  with  convenience,  as  the  answers  are  printed.  \ 

^    f  UVENILE      HARMONY,      containing      Appropriate  n 

^  •^      Hymns    and  Music,    for    Sabbath    Schools,   Sabbath  \ 

^  Schoof  Anniversaries,  and  Family  Devotion.     By    N.  D.  \ 

^  Gould.  ^ 

>  This  little  work  contains  the  Rudiments  of  Music,  set  forth  in  \ 
V  a  plain,  familiar  manner,  so  that  persons  little  versed  in  the  ^ 
\  science  of  music  may  understand,  so  as  to  be  able  to  teach  Chil-  \ 
\  drenandYouth.inthisinterestingandincreasingly  popular  branch  \ 
\  of  education.  The  music,  which  is  mostly  original,  is  simple,  \ 
\  yet  chaste  ;  the  loords  are  appropriate,  and  the  form  and  execution  ^ 
\  of  the  work  such  as  to  render  it  attractive.  Its  remarkable  N 
^  cheapness,  too,  we  think,  must  recommend  it  to  every  one  de-  \ 

>  sirin.r  such  a  work.  It  contains  thirty-one  tunes,  and  sixty-three  x 
S  hjmils,  and  is  sold  at  the  very  low  price  of  $10  per  hundred,  or  ^ 
\  12^  cts.  single.  \ 


\             Gould,    Kendall,  S^*  Lincoln's  Publications.  v 

\  ,>>>>» ^^ ^-^^..^^^ ^  \ 

>  PECK'S  NEW  GUIDE  FOR  EMIGRANTS  TO  THE  WEST,  con-  > 
\  tainiiig  Sketches  uf  Ohio,  Indiana,  Illinois,  Aiissouri,  Michigan,  &.c.  &c.  \ 
\  By  J.  M.  I'eck,  a.  M.,  uf  Rock  Spring,  Illinois.  Srcund  EdiHuii.  \ 
\  CAMP15h;LL   ANU    FEAELON    ON   ELiJUUENCE,  comprising  Camp- 

\  bell's  Lectures  on  Systematic  Theology  and  Pnlp.t  Eloquence,  and  1-  enelon's    \ 

N  Diak'^ues  on  Eloquence.     Edited  by  Prof.  Ripley,  of  Newton  Theological   V 

\  Institution.                                                                                                                      J 

\  AN    EXAMINATION   OF   STUART'S   ESSAY    ON   BAPTISM.     By    - 

^  Henry  J.  Riplev,  Prof.  Bililical  Literature  at  Newton  Theol.  Institution. 

V  JUDSON'S  SERMON  ON  BAPTISM.  c 
\  FULLER'S  DIALOGUES  ON  COMMUNION.  Second  Edition.  \ 
^  THE  GllEAT  TEACHER.  Characteristics  of  our  Lord's  Mini-try.  By  ^ 
\  Rev.  John  Harris.  With  an  Introductory  Essay,  by  Heman  Humphrey  - 
\  D.  D.,  I  resident  of  Amherst  College. 
^  MORRli-'S  MEMOIRS  OF  FULLER.— The  Life  and  Character  of  Rev.  ^ 
\  Andrew  Fuller,  Edited  by  Rufus  Babcock,  Jr.,  D.  D.  \ 
\  MEMOIR  OF  ROGER  WILLIAMS,  the  Founder  of  the  State  of  Rhode  \ 
»  Island.  By  James  D.  Knowles,  A.  M.  ? 
S  MEMOIR   OF   REV.    WILLIAM  STAUGHTON,  D.  D.     By  Rev.  W.    < 

V  S.  Lyxd,  a.  M.  With  a  Likeness.  V 
\       LIFE   OF    PHILIP   MELANCTHON,  comprising  an    Account   of  the   ^ 

>  most   inijiortant   Transactions  of  the  Refornnition.     By  F.  A.  Cox,  D.  D.,   \ 
LL.  D.,   of  London.     From  the   Second   London  Edition,  with  important 
Alterations  by  the  Author,  for  this  Edition. 

MEMOIR    OF    REV.  S.  PEARCE.     By  Andrew  Fuller. 

MEMOIRS  OF  HOWARD  THE  PHILANTHROPIST  ;  compiled  from 
his  Diary,  h  s  confidential  Letters,  and  other  authentic  Documents.  With 
a  Likeness  and  Vignette.  S 

RE.UAINS  OF  REV.  RICHARD  CECIL,  M.  A.  ;  to  which  is  prefixed  ^ 
a  View  of  his  Character.  By  Josiah  Pratt,  B.  D.,  F.  A.  S.,  with  a  beautiful  \ 
Frontispiece.  J 

TRAVELS  OF   TRUE  GODLINESS.     By  the  Rev.  Benjamin  Keach 
London  ;  and  a  Memoir  of  his  Life,  by  Howard  Malcom.     AVith  four  beau-   < 
tiful  Engravings.  ^ 

BEAUTIES  OF  COLLYER.  Selections  from  Theological  Lectures  by  \ 
Rev.  W.  B.  Collyer,  D.  D.,  F.  S.  A.     AVith  a  fine  Engiaving.  \ 

IMITATION  OF  CHRIST.  By  Thomas  a  Kempis.  A  new  and  im-  ^ 
proved  Ed.tion,  edited  by  Howard  Malcom,  A.  M.  With  two  fine  En-  \ 
gravings.  \ 

CHURCH  MEMBER'S  GUIDE.  By  J.  A.  James,  A.  M.,  of  Birming-  \ 
ham,  England.     Edited  by  J.  O.  Choules,  A.  M.  \ 

FEMALE  SCRIPTURE  BIOGRAPHY,  including  an  Essay  on  what  N 
Christianity  has  done  for  Women.  By  F.  A.  Cox,  D.  D.,  LL.  D.,  of  London.  ^ 
Two  Volume-;,  with  four  Engravings.  \ 

SAINTS'  EVERLASTING  REST.  By  Richard  Baxter.  Abridged  > 
by  B.  Fawcett,  A.  M.     With  a  Likeness  and  Vignette.  \ 

HELP  TO  ZION'S  TRAVELLERS.  By  Rev.  Robert  Hall.  With  a  \ 
Preface,  by  Dr.  Rvland.  Edited  by  Rev.  J.  A.  Warne.  With  a  beautiful  ^ 
Vignette.  \ 

SCRIPTURE  NATURAL  HISTORY, containing  a  descriptive  Account  \ 
of  Uuadrii|ieds,  Birds,  Fishes,  Insects,  Reptiles,  Serpents,  Plants, Trees,  Min-  \ 
erals.  Gems,  and  Piecioiis  Stones,  mentioned  in  the  Bible.  By  William  \ 
Carpenter,  London.  With  Improvements  by  Rev.  Gorham  D.  Abbott.  ^ 
Illustrated  by  numerous  Engravings,  also  Sketches  of  Palestine.  \ 

WINCHELL'S  WATTS,  enlarged,  being  an  Arrangement  of  all  the  \ 
Psalms  and  Hymns  of  Dr.  Watts.    With  a  Supplement.  ^ 

NATIONAL  CHUPCH  HARMONY,  containing  Tunes  calculated  for  \ 
Public  Worsh  p,  Anthems  and   Select  _Piecesfoj;  Fasts,   Thanksgivings,   ^ 


Christmas,  Mi  sionary  Meetings,  <Stc.     By  N.  D.  Gould.     New  Stereotype   \ 


Edition,  enlatged.  \ 


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Theoloqical  Semnary-Speer 


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